


Under the Same Roof

by ionica01



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Cute, F/M, Funny, Gen, Reuniting, and fluffy, and kids - Freeform, but mostly fun, dark secrets, families, fma, fmab - Freeform, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 71,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionica01/pseuds/ionica01
Summary: "This is bound to be a disaster!" Ed muttered under his breath, hoping that no one would hear him. He had never been a master at bottling up his annoyance. He was setting the table for his guests when the sentence had escaped through his gritted teeth. 'And what guests!' he thought bitterly.Ten years after the Promised Day, the Mustang, Yao and Elric families reunite, to Ed's annoyance, under his roof. Secrets that were never meant to be told are dug up and the adults remenisce about what has happened to them in the last ten years.Written for the FMA 2017 Big Bang challenge.





	1. Mercury Bird

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Mercury was considered one of the three prime matters in Alchemy (the other two being Sulphur and Salt). It was often represented by a snake or serpent around a sword, bearing resemblance to the Flamel (the symbol on Edward’s red jacket). Mercury represented masculinity and the life force or a state that transcended death on Earth.

"This is bound to be a disaster!" Ed muttered under his breath, hoping that no one would hear him. He had never been a master at bottling up his annoyance. He was setting the table for his guests when the sentence had escaped through his gritted teeth. 'And what guests!' he thought bitterly, placing a glass on the table with more force than intended, which attracted his wife’s attention.

 

"Ed!" his wife let out an exasperated sigh, glaring at him. She rolled her eyes in response to his guilty ‘you-didn’t-hear-that’ look and sighed. Ed would bet that she was mentally cursing his stubbornness (and he was proud he could predict her thoughts so accurately). Not that she shouldn’t be able to comprehend his concern: Roy Mustang was coming to visit them in Resembool, and with his entire family, no less. The woman knew that the relationship between Edward and the Flame Alchemist wasn't the smoothest, but she had always gotten along quite well with the current Führer's wife, and she wanted their kids to get along, too. At least that’s what Edward speculated.

 

"You know the kids love aunt Riza!" she argued in a softer voice, trying to ease the stress off the man's shoulders and encourage him to behave. Little did she know she was only confirming his thoughts.

 

Edward kept scowling and crossed his hands in front of his chest, unceremoniously letting the cutlery rest on the table. He had to admit that Winry was trying her best to make this holiday enjoyable for everyone. And Ed needed an especially carefree one, since he had been working himself to the bone lately, damned be politics! 

 

However, remembering who else was coming to the reunion didn’t exactly figure in Ed’s bucket list and his brow only furrowed deeper as he argued further.

 

"I get that Mustang's coming,” he spat, “but why is the Xingese king visiting our humble abode, too?" His voice betrayed meager amusement as he added, "I bet he’s just coming for the food!"

Winry smiled wryly at that, scolding Edward, "Oh come on, he's your sister-in-law’s brother now!" Still, she was unable to hide the smile rapidly blooming on her face. Ed was proud of himself for converting her to his second-favourite pastime: teasing Squinty-eyes.

 

"He’s my sister-in-law’s half-brother!" Edward insisted, but this time he grinned genuinely and dropped the frown, to his wife's content. Winry really could work miracles on his mood, Ed had to admit at least that much. 

 

"Dad, Dad, DAD!" Oh, the ringing voice of a child, brightening the house! 

 

Edward whipped his head to the staircase, where the voice came from. Indeed, his son was  rushing down the stairs, panting and huffing as if he’d run a marathon. The image of his own child running toward him always made Ed feel fuzzy, in a good way, and his insides went warm.  _ Although _ it was more times than not followed by the unpleasant feeling that the boy had done something wrong and that he expected his dad to repair what he had broken or destroyed or smashed or… Ed hoped none of the above was the case. He really couldn’t deal with more bullshit than the visit.

 

"What is it, Yuriy?" Winry answered instead of Edward, worried and amused by the child's energy at the same time. Ed could tell with just a glance that the woman standing beside him harboured the same fears, which she made a good job at hiding under a motherly smile. Such abilities had never been on Ed’s long agenda of talents, but they  _ were _ very effective.

 

"When is Aunt Riza coming?" the small child managed in between pants as he made it all the way down the stairs. Both his parents let out a sigh they didn’t know they had been holding in and smiled at the innocent question. ‘Nothing to repair this time!’ Edward thought to himself, innerly thanking his son for not adding tasks to the already huge ‘pile of things he hated doing’.

 

Ed wondered how excited Yuriy must have been, glancing at the staircase he had just raced down. Behind him, his sister was also climbing down. Or more like bouncing each and every step, as Sarah was still three and didn't have a good sense of balance. Even less so when she tried to keep up with her brother, Ed knew from a loud experience of having to calm down cries of annoyance and frustration.

 

He expected to a see a sulk on Sarah’s face as per usual and was about to use his amazing fatherly skills to cool her down, but the excitement caused by the arrival of her favourite Uncle and Aunt seemed to overcome her anger. She locked eyes with her father and raised her hands up with a yelp of joy, by all means caused by the incoming visit. ‘Well, at least some of us are enjoying it’ he huffed innerly, wishing he could be so happy. Actually, scratch that thought; teasing General Bastard was infinitely more entertaining.

 

"She should be here in about half an hour." Winry answered, glancing at the clock and then turning to face Ed with a determined look that accepted no talk-back. "Why don't you and your dad go wait for her at the station?" she suggested, addressing the proposal to Yuriy but looking only at Ed, who in turn stared right back at her. 

Even as she went to pick the baby girl up, she never once broke eye contact with an annoyed Edward, refusing to lose to his stubbornness. Oh no, he wouldn’t lose to  _ that  _ look. That was the one she used when she tried convincing him or Sarah to drink milk, and the one she had when she argued that he hadn’t done the maintenance on his automail. Edward stubbornly stared back at her, outright rebuffing to succumb to her will.

 

"Yeeeeey!" he heard his son exclaim, his content so genuine in his giddy voice it made Ed feel guilty. Once that state of parental feelings were reached, the game was over. Maybe Edward could win against Winry, but his children melted his heart every time and he couldn’t deny them the pleasure of seeing ‘Aunt Riza’. After all, he also respected Hawkeye: it was her taste in men that made him question her rationality. 

 

With another deep sigh (the umpteenth that day), he broke eye contact with a victorious and smug Winry and let the dishes rest on the table. It was absolutely revolting that she used his fatherly love against him!

 

"Let's go, son! We don't want to make the cheapskate wait," he said with irony, ignoring Winry's glare. Ed extended his hand, which the five-year-old grabbed energetically and dragged him out the door at full speed, while asking loudly: 

 

“Dad, what’s a cheapskate?”

 

“That, son, is your ‘Uncle Roy’,” he answered in a mocking voice and turned to grin at Winry: he wasn’t gonna lose to her dirty tactics!

 

***

 

A flock of birds were eating the rests of seeds on the train platform, so engrossed in fighting over the food that they barely budged when the two blond men arrived next to them. The mercury colour of their feathers caught Ed’s eye, the alchemical connection forming in his head immediately. After all, Mercury was the symbol the alchemists found the most intriguing, the symbol of paradox itself. It was also why he had chosen it as the symbol on his coat: daring, dangerous, different. That remained his aesthetic, no matter how many people told him it was tasteless.

 

Alchemy had never really left him. It was as much a part of him as Al, Winry or little Yuriy and Sarah were. He still spotted any trace of resemblance between nature and transmutation circles, or the common traits it shared with the symbol of an element. 

 

It wasn’t out of a cringy sentimental attachment that Ed still kept up-to-date with the latest research. He had just never questioned his choice of doing alchemy. It was the job that obsessed him and that made him feel free. Ed wasn’t one for sentimental attachments, neither did he believe in Fate or God, but he believed that science changed depending on who was involved in its research. 

 

Honestly, there wasn’t much to think about. He had alchemy and he had his family, and that made him happy. And after all he had gone through, he saw no reason to deprive himself of any of them. Life was too short not to do what he loved. If Mustang could remain in the military for two years while blind, why wouldn’t he do alchemy?

 

The birds flew away when Yuriy ran through them. Having kids really put the world in another light. They fought everything was their playground, from plants to animals and things, yet they never believed themselves to be Gods. “ _ Of course not, Ed, they’re just kids! That’s how they play!” _ Winry’s amused voice rang in his head.

 

Ed followed Yuriy with his gaze as he ran after the last bird. He resembled his dad perfectly and there was no alchemy involved in creating this wonderful creature. Edward would never share this piece of information, not even with Winry or Al, but he always wondered how his heart could feel so much love when he looked at his son. Was it even healthy?

 

One of the birds detached itself from the group, flying to the closest tree and feeding its child in the nest.

 

"Dad, do you think Nel will like it?" Yuriy pulled Ed out of his thoughts. His voice contained the excitement of a child when they want someone to acknowledge something they're really proud of. He was holding a small wooden figurine out, anxiously awaiting the verdict.

 

Ed analysed the little dog made out of wood in his son's hands and nodded. "Yes, it's better than what I was able to do when I was your age." He ruffled the little boy's hair as they were waiting for the train on the platform. The kid jumped with giddiness and smiled at his dad. Ed could recognize his own smile on the kid’s face and found himself mirroring the gesture without noticing. The simple thought of him being the cause of someone’s smile caused a wide grin that evolved into a laugh. 

 

The platform was soon filled with the genuine sound of a father and his son sharing a good laugh, and Ed found himself tearing up. He never thought he could love someone who looked like him so much. Not when he had hated himself for so long. He sometimes had to wonder how come so many people were willing to put up with his shit daily.

 

'This is something Alchemy could never achieve...' He thought to himself, smiling at the thought of Winry telling him, "Of course you dummy!" when she first find out she was pregnant and Ed got all excited about the process of a human life being born.

 

The birds soared through the sky, achieving heights only a free soul could. Ed looked at the bright and cloudless blue sky and frowned when a ray of sun starting dancing on his face. A thought that had started to hunt him passed through his mind.

 

The train pulled in shortly thereafter, covering the sound of laughter. Edward felt his son tensing up as he looked for their guests, his hand grasping his dad’s tighter. The platform was flooded with people getting down from the train, some of them acquaintances Ed greeted politely and others strangers who were just taking a break in the quiet town of Resembool. In the sea of blond easterns was a huge uproar, murmurs that reached Edward’s ears: ‘was that really the Fuhrer?’ ‘what is he doing here?’ ‘I heard the West representative is back home’ ‘maybe they’re having a meeting?’.

 

Years after being invested with the power of looking after the Western district, Ed still couldn’t get used to being more than ‘just Edward’. He felt uncomfortable being ‘Mr. Elric’ or whatever other titles people gave him, so he even made it a rule to be called ‘Ed’ in the office. It eased the stress off his shoulders.

 

He returned his attention to the task of searching for the Mustangs, which proved quite easy: when their turn to get off the train came, everyone stepped aside and another wave of murmurs arose.

 

"Nel!" Yuriy yelled once he saw his friend, cupping his hands over his mouth. That was a child for you, oblivious to the turmoil in the station. Edward joined in, following his son’s example and screaming: "Over here!" He waved in their direction. The little girl saw them and waved back, as did her mother, who got off right behind her, greeting them with a smile.

 

Penelope Mustang was a charming four-year old with short black hair and gorgeous, mesmerizing black eyes. She inherited these features from her father, but the rest was entirely from her mother: just like Riza Hawkeye, she had big eyes and an oval face, and her posture was just like hers, too. She always kept her head held high, walked evenly and kept her back straight, and she never rushed head-first into anything.  _ And  _ she happened to have a persuasive power just as effective as her father’s. A deadly combination if she happened to have inherited his sly nature, Edward feared.

 

But even so, she had a child-like behaviour (without which Ed would have been ready to declare she was some kind of monster, given her skills and intelligence) and often found herself lost in the Elrics' pace. Despite the long train ride, she looked really fresh and healthy, her cheeks rosy with the Resembool brize. That complemented her pale skin perfectly, and her whole appearance left Edward wondering how Mustang would react to all the pretenders the girl will have (and he didn't doubt she'd have many).

 

"Yu-chan!" She called the younger Elric out, hopping over to where they were, her pace a bit more rushed than usual. She hadn't seen Yuriy in around half an year now, although they did talk over the phone. In fact, they discussed so often it threatened Ed’s pocket. Every time the kids heard their mothers talk, they asked- or begged, in Yuriy’s case- to talk to each other, too.

 

They must've first met right after Penelope was born and after that, they just clicked together. They'd play quietly for hours on end every time they met (which Ed personally found magical: Yuriy and being quiet?! That was near impossible!) and they found it hard to be apart. Their fathers often glared at each other, seeing how well their kids got along and sometimes made subtle snarky comments as: "well, your son seems to be unable to let her go" and "your daughter doesn't let my son talk much, huh?" which earned them both unpleasant looks from their wives. But when it was just the two men... Oh, that was a story for another time.

 

"How are you?" Penelope asked in her sweet voice, lacing her hands behind her back and swinging them in a feminine gesture. 'Is this really Hawkeye's daughter?' the former alchemist wondered as he turned to look at the gun-woman. 

 

She was fondly smiling at her daughter, but she raised her gaze to meet Edward's and greeted him, "Hello, Edward. It's been a while."

 

"It has indeed. Welcome!" He greeted her in return, leaning down to pet Black Hayate, who ran over to him and almost nulled his potential energy with his jump. "Huh? Where's your husband?" Edward wondered, suddenly realising that he couldn’t feel the obnoxious presence of the Flame Alchemist. He perked his head around her; it was hard to believe Mustang was far from his self-proclaimed "lovely wife".

 

"Oh, he's... Carrying the baggage." Riza answered with a meaningful look and glanced back to the carriage. 

 

And there he was: a raven-haired man in distress, barely stumbling out of the train doors right before they closed, yet still gallantly refusing anyone’s help. Mustang's arms were full with luggages which made him weaver under their weight, to the point where he couldn’t even walk straight. When he finally made it out onto the platform, he stole a glance at the older Elric brother and slapped his forehead. Ed heard his wife giggle (Hawkeye was giggling?! How much did that idiot Colonel influence her?) and decided it was fine to make fun of him.

 

"What's wrong Mustang, hate seeing me that much?" Ed joked, heading towards him and slapping him friendly (and as hard as he could) on the shoulder, once again making abstraction of all the wide eyes and gaping people on the platform.

 

"I hate you seeing me while I'm playing the role of a donkey," he hissed through gritted teeth, looking at the luggage in front of him in disbelief. Edward had to hand it to Hawkeye: three ginormous coffers AND two backpacks? What was she doing? Moving out?!

 

"Mustang... Do you plan on moving in my house?" Ed asked, obviously displeased and more than worried. He did enjoy Riza's company (though she could kind of monopolize Winry) and Penelope was the sweetest girl (apart from his wife and daughter) but Mustang... Every day?! Now  _ that _ would have made the “mountain of bullshit” higher than Everest.

 

"As if! I couldn't risk letting my lovely daughter hang around your brat all day long!" he answered with a bit of a Hughes voice when he was fawning over his Elicia. The comment tickled Ed the wrong way, though.

 

"Whaaat?! Do you wanna say that my son's a bad influence or something?!" Edward was even angrier than when people used to tell him he was a pipsqueak. How dare he insult his son?! He was right after all: peaceful cohabitation with the Führer was impossible.

"I'm just saying, if they get married, we'll be weirdly related!!" Roy made a disgusted face, but it was nowhere near a match for Ed's:

 

"Married?! They're kids, you idiot Colonel! Plus, you wouldn't even pay for your daughter's wedding dress, so there's no way I'll let Yuriy marry her!" he erupted. This exchange clearly attracted the remaining people’s attention but, even worse, the children’s as well, as they turned their heads to their fathers, stunned. The two heated adults weren't paying attention to them in the slightest.

 

"I'm the Führer now, Fullmetal! I'd expect you to keep better tabs on the political state of the country, given that I trusted you with the West. And I am _ not  _ a cheapskate: I'm just saving money!" he yelled back, snapping out of his normal composure, as he always did when the older Elric was around.

 

"West my ass, that's just you taking advantage of me doing the groundwork!" Edward snapped back, not giving Roy time to breathe and not even paying attention to how Riza was politely cleaning after their mess, making up a story for the watchers at the train station. "And what are you saving money for?! Three pieces of luggage?!" Ed yelled, pointing at the baggage scattered in front of them.

 

"That's Riza's fault!!" The man protested, throwing his wife an accusing look. "She packed as if we were going on a vacation for months!" he complained. A rare feat to Mustang when it came to Riza. That managed to pick Ed’s interest.

 

"Weather in Resembool is tricky," she stated matter-of-factly, after getting the last person out of their visual range.  "Besides, you lost our bet." A devilish smirk flourished as she said that and her calm demeanor took a turn for a teasing one.

 

"Bet?" Ed asked, curious. Before he could find out more, a small tug on his pants made Nel's presence acknowledged. He bowed to her level and smiled. The kid wasn't to blame for how her father acted.

 

"What's wrong, Nel?" His voice had now calmed down, in part thanks to Nel’s intervention. Ed had to admit, he really did get attached to the small girl and enjoyed spending time with her almost as if she was his own child. Dangerous indeed she was.

 

"What were you talking about earlier?" The innocent child asked him. Reality now hit Ed and he locked eyes with his son, who clearly comprehended the situation much better, as proven by the flush coloring his cheeks. The girl's parents also locked eyes and decided it wasn't something for her to worry about now.

 

"Nothing, sweetheart." Her mom answered, stroking her dark hair. "Don't worry." After a short while, the child nodded and dropped the subject.

 

Edward also headed to his son and patted his head: "I'm sorry, buddy! Shouldn't have gotten so heated up." Yuriy looked like a tomato that could barely speak. Half amused and half guilty, Ed remained by his child until the child eventually gathered enough courage and whispered in his dad's ear:

 

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" 

 

Ed blinked a few times before making the connection and nodded. His face broke into a fond simper. He could understand Yuriy’s shyness. The thought that Yuriy was a spitting image of how he acted around Winry made his blood rise to his cheeks.

 

"Don't worry, son," he laughed, ruffling his hair. "This’ll be our secret." Yuriy still looked ashamed, which made perfect sense: having your crush discovered was a matter of pride when it came to men. As such, he added reassuringly, “I was the same with your mother.” He was willing to compromise with Mustang for his son, shall need arise.

 

"You were?" The boy's eyes lit up, gaining confidence as he wanted to inquire more. "Can you tell me?" His eyes sparked up, making his father hate himself for crushing his enthusiasm with his answer:

 

"Sorry Yuriy, but we have to make it home, or mom will get really angry."

 

"Yeah, we should go," Riza added, checking her watch. "Winry and Sarah must be waiting for us."

 

As they were about to leave, Ed made his way back to the other adults and asked, "What's with that bet, though?"

 

Mustang looked at Fullmetal's questioning eyes and took a deep breath before answering. "Come on, help me with these and I'll tell you the story on the way." He pointed to the dropped luggage.

 

Normally, Ed would have protested, but after throwing another glance to the luggage and remembering Riza's devilish smile, he decided Roy was getting enough shit from his family, so he couldn't help but pity the man. He knew it: women were cruel after all!

 

"So, what's the deal?" Ed asked once he was carrying a backpack and the heavier luggage (Mustang had two, and plus he was younger, so he figured it was somehow Equivalent Exchange). The kids were running ahead of them, racing Hayate to the house, while Riza was walking only a step ahead, admiring the calm Resembool scenery.

 

"Yesterday was a good day," Mustang started with a melancholic look that gave Ed a feeling this was going to be a long story. "I was having a lesson with Penelope, you know, teaching her a bit more advanced stuff: how to have more control over what she molded and how to change the alchemical circle to control the result." 

 

Ed nodded along. "Yeah, I also did that with Yuriy. The kid learns fast." he answered, unable to contain his parental joy and trying his hardest not to sound as smug as Hughes used to. Damn, being a parent was hard!

 

"Well anyway... That was all good and well until she asked whether we can move onto fire. Nel seems to have an unhealthy obsession with Flame Alchemy," Mustang continued, shaking his head in disapproval, as if he found the situation unreasonable- like when hags complain about youngsters these days.

 

"I wonder where she got that from?" Riza interrupted sarcastically for the first time, joining the two men as the kids almost reached home.

 

"Now Riza, that also runs in your family!" Roy protested, trying to brush off the blame, to which she simply rolled her eyes. "So as I was saying, she asked whether I could teach her Flame Alchemy. And I was kinda afraid to, because it requires a fine control, so I tried to convince her to mold the little veins of a petal first and try flame alchemy later: you know, the normal way around it." 

 

Ed nodded along, wondering where Mustang went wrong, When it came to his family, he made rational decisions, as much as Ed felt like drinking a gallon of milk rather than saying it aloud.

 

"Until Riza came in and asked me to give it a go." Ed's jaw dropped: Hawkeye did?! He always thought she had hated Flame Alchemy, so then why?! 

 

Seeing the dumbfounded look on his face, the woman kindly bothered to explain. "It's just that I trust Nel's skills. She already can aim pretty well and she usually shoots a moving target, so why not?" She shrugged, as if it was natural for a four-year-old to accomplish that. Meanwhile, Sarah couldn’t even walk well on her own.

 

"R-really? A moving target?" Ed gulped. She was Hawkeye's daughter alright.

 

"Well she's not perfect, but she can wound a person chasing her. Fire would also be a good self-defence tool," Riza added thoughtfully, probably thinking about how to help Nel’s skills improve.

 

'Oh, so it's about her safety.' Ed concluded, content with the answer: this was the Lieutenant he knew. And given that Nel was the Führer’s daughter, knowing how to defend herself was a good thing. The world was a dangerous place, after all.

 

"But, as the responsible father I am," Roy continued as if never interrupted, ignoring Ed's look of disbelief at his line, "I tried talking Riza out of it: you know, since fire isn't exactly safe for children.” He stopped to shot her a glare she brilliantly ignored. “And then she came up with a bet: if Nel wasn't able to light a fire in three tries, it'd be my win. If she could do it, however, I would lose. And the loser did all the winner wanted for a whole day." He sighed a lead-heavy sigh.

 

"So... She did it," Edward concluded, amazed.

 

"She did." Hawkeye answered proudly. "I know my daughter: she catches up fast." Edward had to keep in a snicker seeing how smug Riza looked. She was the embodiment of a delighted parent.

 

"I never doubted that, Riza, but I didn't expect her to figure it out from the first try! Granted, it was a small flame and an easy target, but still..." Her father said, still astonished by her feat, yet sorry about losing the bet.

 

"So... Hawkeye took advantage of that, huh?" Ed brought the conversation back to its roots, looking at the luggage. "But still, I never expected you to be a tyrant!" He turned towards the woman in question, looking a bit betrayed. Somehow, he expected her to always look after the well-being of her husband, as she did when she was a soldier. And on a side note, he was a bit frightened: a wrench-wielding Winry was enough, he didn't need another devilish blonde woman helping his own wife under his own roof.

 

"I don't think I'm a tyrant. I just like being in charge for a day." She smiled, looking at the house that was now near and waving at Winry, who was out with Sarah, Yuriy and Penelope. Both Ed and Roy nodded at the four people, unable to raise their hands under the weight of the luggages Ed could swear he saw Winry's brows twitching at the sight of the amount of things their guests have brought. He put his telepathic communication with her to use once again when he assured her with a shake of his head that no, there was no way they were moving in.

 

Edward turned again to Mustang. The man was now looking at his wife with indescribable fondness in his eyes, and the Elric understood this was just Roy showing his love in a strange way. He of all people knew what it meant to love a person more than imaginable, so he decided against teasing him... For now.

 

The sky was clear blue, with no cloud in sight.

 


	2. The Science of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is centred on Edwin. Don't worry, Royai lovers, that's coming next!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The science of the heart is sometimes lost to me/But I’m following this feeling.”- All I need to know by Thousand Foot Krutch

Winry was alone in the kitchen. She leaned against the counter and loosed a breath, feeling her lungs empty and her chest fall. 

 

Finally, a moment of peace and quiet. 

 

Since they came back from the West, she didn’t have time to rest: she had to tidy up the house, prepare the guest rooms, cook and clean, take care of the garden, visit the graves… But now that she had time to taste the fresh air, she eventually admitted it. 

 

She had missed Resembool.

 

After Ed was officially named the Representative of the West, they had both left Resembool and moved in Rush Valley. This was all part of Mustang’s plan to make Amestris slowly more democratic and actually take into account what people said. This was also his way of keeping tabs on the neighbouring countries and stepping in whenever it was needed. As the man himself put it (no doubt in a simplified manner, which was more than enough to make Winry roll her eyes-why did men have to be such politics maniacs?), Ed was kind of the voice of the population while still being part of the military, having soldats under his command and everything. Basically, he was the chief of the Western headquarters and part of Mustang’s team: Al looked over the East, Falman over the North (which Armstrong agreed on since she moved to Central) and Ross over the South (this was both a way of proving the citizens that there was no discrimination when it came to women and also very practical- Ross was the exemplary leader, after all; or at least that’s what Roy said). Over all of these representants watched Riza, a kind of Representative of the Nation, so to speak. (The formal title was too long and useless for Winry to bother remembering).

 

Well, at least Winry lived in Rush Valley and opened her own shop, refusing to work just as an apprentice anymore. Ed was theoretically living with her, but practically, he was travelling all around West and even to Creta to gather intel on how to make the Westerns happier and how to improve their situation. Well, she should have expected that: her husband had never been the type to sit around doing nothing. It would have bored her, as well.

 

By that point, Yuriy was already born, so Ed tried his best to be at home as much as he could, but even so, he still couldn’t help missing some weekends. Each time he couldn’t make it home on Friday, he’d call Winry and start dissing Mustang and his paperwork. And then he’d call Mustang himself and tell him off because “Damn you idiot Colonel or whatever General you are, I have a family you know!”, to which Mustang would politely respond: “I’m your Führer and you have that family to look after. Do your job, Elric,” and then he unceremoniously shut the phone. That made Ed call her yet again, this time to whine about how Mustang was overworking him and how, since Riza was pregnant and all, he couldn’t possibly let her work. Winry had to stifle a giggle and calm him down. 

 

Yuriy’s baby language always seemed to help Edward find peace of mind, though. Putting Yuriy on the phone was like some kind of spell that cured Ed’s nerves. Also, his amount of gushing and questions about his son- “Did he start talking while I wasn’t there?” “Ed, that won’t happen for at least three more months!” “You never know! He might be a genius!” “Not a single genius spoke at three months, Ed!” or “Did he eat? Did he cry today? Is he sleeping properly?”- was also astonishing.

 

Of course Winry missed him, but she was as supportive of him as he was of her. After all, Ed did his best to make the country a better place, as cheesy as that sounded. And she loved him for that. She was proud to be called Mrs. Elric and even when clients took pity on her for being alone most of the time, she just shook her head and smiled. “I wouldn’t take it any other way,” she said, and it was true.

 

Every time Ed came back home, she’d take full advantage of it. They’d sleep in longer than usual- even if they waked up at the same ungodly hour, they lazed around together, chit-chatting or simply feeling each other’s presence. Winry would take Sundays off and spend them with her husband and son. Enjoying their morning coffee while Yuriy was still sleeping was another one of their favourite pastimes. They didn’t often get quiet breakfasts like those with an infant at home.

 

Ed brought back toys for Yuriy from every new city he visited to the point Winry considered dedicating a room to the boy’s cars and soldiers. When Sarah was born, she prohibited Ed from buying toys for both of them at the same time, saying he should alternate them. She knew he was giving them sweets in secret, though. Going shopping together and taking their son for a walk in the park was the perfect way to spend the afternoon. Winry simply knew that it wasn’t just her who enjoyed meeting people they knew and proudly say, “Yeah, my husband came back.” “How do you manage being apart for such a long time?” “Oh we have a deep bond,” was always the answer, along with a side glance at each other.

 

It was this kind of small things that they indulged themselves in and that made their day. Whenever he told her a sweet “good morning” or wished her “good night” in a low, tired voice; whenever he kissed her ever so shortly before going off to work; whenever her blue eyes would meet his melted golden ones, her heart would skip a beat and a smile would flutter on her face. And every now and again, they’d get a holiday like this one to come back to Resembool and enjoy their family-time. In moments like these, she realised it was worth all the hard work.

 

Winry snapped out of her reminiscence with the sound of loud steps down the staircase reaching her ears. The alternation between a human foot and a metal one against the wood was unmistakable. Soon, the feet in question could be seen. The blonde head of their possessor shortly made itself present and golden eyes filled with annoyance met blue, happy ones.

 

"I'm done!" Ed exclaimed, making his way into the kitchen and plopping into one of the chairs at the table, extending his hand to grab Winry's. 

 

The woman chuckled and escaped his grasp, heading to the counter. “No you aren't!" She muttered in a teasing voice. "We have to cut the vegetables for the salad!" 

 

Her answer earned a loud groan from Edward, who took a dramatic stance before he started complaining, "What?! You mean after I just showed the Mustangs to their room and gave them a brief tour of the house AND entrusted them with our amazing children, even going as far as to endanger Yuriy's future, I have to CUT VEGETABLES?!"

 

Winry simply rolled her eyes at his tantrum, but this time she let his hand wrap around her waist. Honestly, her husband could be such a child! And yet, this was rather charming: she was the only one able to see this part of the respected West administrator and she was the only one he ever locked his hands around, which filled her with sheer joy and, somehow, pride. As such, she was able to let his childish behaviour pass, or even to find it cute and adorable-when it didn't drive her crazy.

 

"Oh please, Yuriy will be just fine!" She hid a knowing smile behind an unimpressed expression. In secret, she kind of hoped the tight friendship between Yuriy and Penelope would somehow mend whatever was wrong between Roy and Ed. Besides, seeing the blush on her son’s face reminded her of Edward’s, which was cute.

 

"But we won't be unless you get to chopping!" she added categorically, patting Ed’s head, which was now resting against her abdomen, with him too lazy to get up and properly hug her.

 

A pout formed on his face: "You're taking advantage of me!" he accused her, the statement not entirely false. It was rare that they got to see their friends like this and she did want to do everything perfectly. Of course he could guess her thoughts: Edward Elric had some kind of sixth sense when it came to his wife or something!

 

"Winry, we barely have any free time!" he argued, tightening his grip around her waist. "Shouldn't we spend it enjoying ourselves instead of cooking for stuck-up Führers and Kings?!" 

 

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards in answer. She did want to spend time with her family alone, but... "I think it's good for the kids. They're building up friendships," she answered in an even voice, withholding from saying what was really on her mind. It was more like a hunch, but she simply  _ knew _ that Ed enjoyed it too, no matter how much of a foul mouth he had.

 

"Unfortunately!" he lamented, but still- reluctantly- let go of her and got up, making his way to the chopping board. But not before making sure to groan at the movement like an old man with backaches, which made Winry roll her eyes yet again at how much of a drama-queen Ed could sometimes- most of the time- be.

 

As he started cutting, he asked in a thoughtful voice: "Though I do wonder who they inherited that from." He stopped with the knife in mid-air, pointing it at Winry. "Maybe it's from Al?"

 

"Get that down!" she mumbled in a grumpy voice, pushing the blade down. "And yeah, that seems possible." Winry answered, returning to her own job, cutting tomatoes and pushing the onions to Ed. He made a disgusted face and swallowed, but still got to work. Winry smiled. Yes, he could be childish and annoying, but he always did what she asked him to-after some complaints and bickering, may be, but she still appreciated it-after some complaints and bickering.

 

They cut vegetables in silence for a while, with Ed occasionally sniffing and Winry pushing everything in the bowl between them. Ed might not have been a chef, but he could manage a decent dish and the food was edible. He always lamented that cooking should be more like alchemy, in that rationally changing the ingredients ought to change the outcome instead of relying on intuition. She’d just argue that he was an alchemy freak and needed to start realising not everything worked according to the Law of Equivalent Exchange.

 

The silence felt natural. Winry wasn’t exactly sure when dividing household chores had become a habit, but it was second nature now.

 

She glanced sideways to him, her blonde locks hiding her eyes. If anyone had told her ten years ago that she could enjoy a quiet moment with Edward Elric, she would have said they were drunk or severely ill. He had a foul mouth and they used to argue a lot. They still did, about the smallest things: where was his hair brush; where was her wrench; who drank the wine; why didn’t he drink his milk-good thing Yuriy didn’t have his intolerance, bad thing Sarah took after her dad and they both refused to drink any cow-milk- and so on. 

 

Especially after he came home from the Promised Day, they used to bicker on a daily basis, yet it never put a strain on their relationship. They weren't the kind of people to get upset over a little argument, and even when Al got in between them they didn't stop until they said all they had to say. In fact, she appreciated his honesty. It was what made their relationship work. With all the time they had to spend apart, little fights like those were what helped them improve what need to fixing to get things going smoothly.

 

But no matter how much they'd bicker, Ed always took her side when someone else was in the picture. He had always protected her. He would always protect their family.

 

_ Ed made it a rule to go shopping with Winry, claiming it did him good to get out of the house every once in awhile. The faint blush on his face told Winry that wasn't the only reason, but she never objected. She noticed how he always subtly took the heavier bags from her hand, or how he'd keep his right arm free to intertwine with hers. _

 

On one of these occasions, a shopper falsely accused Winry of not having paid.

 

_ "Yo missy, where do ya think you're going?!" the man yelled after her. At first, she didn't even turn her head, not knowing who he was addressing, but after he called, "You, the blonde one, didn't ya hear me?!" she turned around and innocently asked: _

 

_ "Me?" _

 

_ "Yeah you, you little rascal! Ya think ya can walk out of my stall without paying?!" Winry felt tens of pairs of eyes fixing her.  _

 

_ Winry was stunned by the words at first, but just as she opened her mouth to talk back, Ed cut her off, "Eh?! What are you saying, you old fart?!" he snapped, taking a step closer to him. _

 

_ "Your little friend there hasn't paid her veggies, you bastard! How dare ya talk to me like that?!" The man’s blood raised to his face and he stood up from his chair. _

 

_ "Ya’re the one who made her a ‘rascal’” Ed spitted. “ An’ I was here the whole time, ya shitty old man, and she paid it all! Check again!" Ed yelled back, raising the hand holding bags to point a finger at him. _

 

_ “That's right, I paid!" Winry protested, in a less angry voice than Ed- not that anyone could even dream match him- but still pissed. She could hear the citizens of Resembool asking each other what happened. Anyone knew everyone in this small town; she sometimes didn’t know whether it was a curse or a blessing. _

 

_ "You paid none!" the man kept to his accusations. He got dangerously close to a very angry Edward. _

 

_ "How can you... Look here you bastard, do you wanna fight me?" Ed finally screamed and if not for Winry to put a firm hand around his waist, he would have launched himself at the shopper. _

 

_ "Ed, there's no point in doing this! Don't get into a fight with such a man! It's a small sum, I'll just pay it again." She normally wouldn't have compromised, but Ed wasn't gonna stop until she gave in.  _

 

_ He turned to face her with a bewildered look. Slowly, she felt his muscles relax under her firm grip. Winry smiled warmly and squeezed his hand, seeking to stop the number of creases on his forehead from exponentially increasing. _

 

_ The whole peace attempt was shattered to pieces right under Winry's horrified eyes. The old man's fist collided with Ed's cheek before she could even react, echoing with a deaf sound. The blonde alchemist lost his footing from the impact of the punch. The woman gasped and clutched his hand tighter. _

 

 _Ed straightened up and looked at the shopper._ _The older man's face was red and angry, his fist still up in the air, all eyes locked on him now. Edward calculatively took a step forward, surprising everyone around him as he spoke evenly._

 

_ "What was that for, gramps?" He forcibly laughed, rubbing his cheek with his free hand and feeling Winry's horrified gaze and tight grip. He turned towards her with a calm face and a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Winry!" She could read the self-control in his eyes, that leash that kept him from going berserk-Ed. And she  _ knew _ he was very close to snapping from it. _

 

_ "What's going on here?" A man finally put himself between the two and placed a firm hand on the shopper's shoulder. "Did you get into a fight or anything?" _

 

_ Ed smiled slyly, "Well you see, we had a difference in opinion on whether this woman here paid her groceries or not." He leaned his head towards Winry and the ‘arbitre’ nodded. "As such, I think he wanted to prove his point with his fist, which accidentally collided with my baby-smooth skin." He finished in an ironic tone that made Winry elbow him. He faked being hurt and let out an "ow". The woman met the golden orbits in which victory danced. _

 

_ "I see. I think we can solve this peacefully though. Isn't there anyone here to confirm Miss Rockbell having paid?" The newcomer asked, looking at the people around. _

 

In the end, the accident was solved peacefully. A granny confirmed that Winry had indeed paid and the man apologized to Ed, who took pleasure into teasing him from there on. Up to that day, he still offered them free fruit when they went shopping. Sarah loved the strawberries from his place!

 

_ Later, Winry asked him about his calm demeanor and just got an “If it didn’t bother you, I wasn’t going to make a scene. Though that old fart would have deserved it!” hissed in response. _

 

Winry had never told anyone about that incident-she doubted any sane person would believe it. Edward looked every bit the cynical, annoying alchemy-freak that he was most of the time. But Winry knew him better than that.

 

She recalled how happy he was when she first told him she was pregnant. Well, after the shock passed and he stopped choking on his dinner, at least.

 

_ He got up and grabbed her in a tight hug before spinning her around, which he only stopped doing when she chopped his head, "I'm pregnant, stupid!" _

 

_ "Oh... Oh!" Realisation hit him and he let her down, lowering his ear to her belly: "Is he alright?" he asked, holding a breath in. "He ain't kicking!!" He freaked out, getting back up and catching Winry's shoulders with shaky hands, "He ain't moving! Did I..." He only relaxed- with a baffled look on his face- when Winry burst out laughing. _

 

_ "It's fine! The baby won't move until it's four months old or so." She said in between laughs, taking Ed's hands in hers. "The baby is fine," she repeated, gently placing one of his hands on her belly. He eventually calmed down and kissed her hand, rubbing his own against her still-flat abdomen. _

 

_ "This... Is amazing!" he finally muttered, listening to Winry's crystalline laugh. "He's gonna be amazing!" _

 

_ "How do you know it's a he?" _

 

_ Her husband shrugged. "I just know." His excitement was soon replaced by a terrified face, though, as he stared stiffly at her. _

 

_ "Ed?" He just kept staring at her. "Ed! What happened?" Winry asked again in a panicked voice, shaking the man’s shoulders with both of her hands. _

 

_ "I..." his voice came out strangled,  "I have to leave next week... To sign the new agricultural law." _

 

_ Winry let out a relieved breath and squeezed his hands to reassure  him: "I... We'll be fine. You'll only be gone for about a week, it's not a big deal. We can manage!” Her lips peeled into a smile as she glanced at the baby. Or at least, where she thought it- he- was. _

 

_ Ed’s eyes stopped upon the same place. She kissed him shortly and felt his smile form under her lips.  _

 

_ “We'll be waiting home!" _

 

Winry let out a small chuckle: he could be such a goof. Ed turned to look at her puzzled, and she just shook her head. Annoyed, he tried getting close to hug her, but she frowned at the cutting board and then reprimanded him wordlessly, as she once used to when he didn't drink his milk. She still tried to convince him to, but she was fighting a losing battle. She had him drink it as an example for Sarah, but father and daughter ended up barfing together, so she held back on pursuing the experiment.

 

Winry glanced down at her now flat-again tummy and sighed. In a way, she missed being pregnant. Despite the constant pain and occasional nausea, Ed used to actually listen to her demands back then.

 

_ For the rest of her pregnancy, he transferred all of his work at home. Only God knows how much of a pain that was for the military but hey! They knew what they were getting themselves into when they designated Ed as a West-representative. He gained a reputation as the reason why Roy asked Riza to massage his back and neck for 8 months straight, as the Hawk’s eye reported in a telephone conversation with her mechanic friend. _

 

_ Besides, Ed would read more maternity books than political and economical ones, as if he was the one giving birth. He'd run in town for every strange desire she had: cupcakes with spinach or eggs and chocolate, he'd make it all no matter what, even if it made him puke. Winry was pretty sure he had barfed more times than herself during her pregnancy. That didn’t prevent her from teasing him that he learned how to cook thanks to it. _

 

_ He even kept himself from fighting with her, which had to be some kind of miracle. She could just see him swallowing hard and shutting his eyes to calm down every time he got angry. When she was the one to get angry, he would gently stroke her hair and let her punch his chest until she calmed down and her breaths evened out. Winry would later apologize in between hiccups and he'd just kiss her forehead understandingly, hugging her tighter. _

 

Her second pregnancy involved even more pampering, with both Yuriy and Edward fawning over her like she was some kind of princess.

 

_ She was sleeping soundly when the bang of a door against the wall woke her up. Her eyelids fluttered, refusing to open up entirely. She squirmed around in her bed, turning her face away from the light. As she did do, she extended her hands, only to realise Ed wasn’t next to her. _

 

_ ‘If he’s the one waking me up, he has a deathwish!’ she thought angrily, forcing her eyes shut at the sound of steps up the stairs. Did she ask for too much? She simply wanted to sleep- and she needed to do it for two people! _

 

_ “Do you think mom’s up?” _

 

_ “Probably. It’s almost noon.” _

 

_ She heard muffled noises approaching her door, followed by mumbles. Was it really noon? she propped herself on her elbow and got  up just in time for the rest of her family to enter her room. _

 

_ “Morning, sleepyhead!” “Morning, mom!” the two voices chimed. _

 

_ Winry opened her sleepy eyes widely at the sight of the tray filled with pancakes and fruit juice her son was carrying. He proudly placed it on her legs, waiting at the end of the bed for any type of praise. _

 

_ “You… Yuriy, you did this?” she asked, amazed. _

 

_ “Dad also helped, but it was my idea. Do you like them?” he was beaming. _

 

_ She tasted the food, which was still warm and melted into her mouth. “It’s delicious! Thank you!” she smiled, kissing her son’s forehead. _

 

_ “Hey, I helped too, you know?” Edward commented, and he leaned in for Winry to peck his cheek. _

 

She looked over at the man at her side with fondness: he wasn't always physically present there, but he always stood by her side when she needed him the most. It must have been a result of him never having a dad around and wanting to be a better father and husband in his own family. Winry would have loved him even without all the struggle that reinforced his feelings. She could only wonder if she deserved all the happiness.

 

_ He used to freak out from the smallest details. _

 

_ The first morning she felt sick and puked, he stared at her for a good minute before he panicked and ran around the house in search for whatever could help her-though Ed himself wasn't too sure what that was. It was only when Winry threw a wrench in his direction- and missed for one of the very first times in her life- that he regained his composure and came by her side to hold her hair up and squeeze her hand. _

 

_ When Yuriy moved for the first time, Winry remembered letting out a small "yeep" in surprize and hugging her belly. Although Ed was in the other room studying, he rushed over to her and looked at her smiling face questioning. _

 

_ "The baby moved!" Winry explained through squeals. Before she could even blink, Ed was next to her, his hand on her belly and his lips pressed to her forehead. The baby didn't move again for the next two minutes, but when he did, he sure kicked hard. _

 

_ "That's my boy!" The man laughed and then looked not-so-apologetically at his pained wife, still smiling. Winry had to give in to his stupid grin and nuzzled her head in the nape of his neck. _

 

_ "Ed?" _

 

_ "Hmm?" The man answered distantly, still drunk on his own happiness. _

 

_ "Have you thought of a name? For the baby, I mean." She put her hand over his, drawing lazy circles on it, completely immersed in his scent. _

 

_ "I did." _

 

_ Ed met her knitted brow and mused, “How about Yuriy?" He smiled lovingly, squeezing Winry's hand. She felt her eyes water and blinked quickly to keep from leaking any tears. _

 

_ “Yuriy..." she repeated the name. It fell of her tongue like an old memory. She dragged Ed's collar close and burying her face in the calming scent of his shirt. She hadn’t heard the name in years, only read it on the cold stone of the grave. To give life to a name again-to light up the memory of her father-that was something only Ed could dare do. _

 

_ "And if it were a girl?"  _

 

_ "Sarah," he answered simply. _

 

_ "Shouldn't it be Trisha?" she protested, poking Ed's cheek so he'd drop the staring contest he had with his unborn son and look at her. _

 

_ "No. Al asked me to leave the name for his first daughter."  _

 

_ They discussed things like that? But Mei an Al weren't even married yet! The marriage had been postponed several times because of the Imperial Family butting in and wanting it all to be perfect. Finally, it was scheduled for three months later. _

 

_ "Oh,” was all she said out loud. She appreciated Edward’s gesture of honoring her father by naming his firstborn after him, but she wondered if it wouldn’t hurt too much for her to call her sin that. If a part of her wouldn’t break any time she said his name. _

 

_ She felt Edward’s warmth under her fingers. He was alive- they were both alive, and soon a new life was going to discover this world. _

_ If her father’s memory could live in Yuriy, she would be able to let go of the past. She didn’t need to forget it-just to escape its grasp and look at it fondly. _

 

_ “Yuriy sounds like a great name.” _

 

***

 

She liked quiet days like those. Lazing around the house, spending time with him. She was active most of the time, so she enjoyed an hour or two of pure and unobliterated peace. It was the perfect way to end her day.

 

"Al and Mei should be here soon, too!" Winry told Ed, interrupting the walk down memory lane to return to the present. Now, Alphonse and Mei were finally married and their first born was a girl, indeed named Trisha. She even looked a bit like her deceased grandmother: she had the same beautiful eyes and Amestrian features that her dad also possessed, but her face was framed by a mop of silky black hair and her eyes were golden, like Ed's. 

 

When she was first born, Al was proudly declaring that a Xingese princess will finally possess the same golden eyes that his mother loved. “The Elric lineage broke the Xingese habits,” he used to joke, to which Mei responded, “The Elrics always manage to impose themselves, no matter where.”

 

Edward smiled happily at the thought of his brother coming back. Winry knew how much he had missed him; honestly, she had missed Al’s presence as well. He was so kind and calm, the only one that managed to strike a balance in their short-tempered family. 

 

Winry suddenly noticed Ed’s face darkening. He spat, "Yey, a royal pain in the ass is coming, too!" 

 

'Ling was coming with the same carriage. With his family. And they all inherited his appetite. Except Lan Fan: she was decent.' She internally mused the rest of Ed’s speech regarding the Xingese Royal Family- ‘a stuck-up title for a family of gluttons’, as the afore quoted man put it-accurately, Winry had to admit.

  
  


Preparing for Ling’s arrival meant going to the market daily and stocking up like crazy-the cupboards were full to the point where the doors were about to break. ‘Well… Everything has its pros and cons, right?’ she thought to herself.

 

"Oh come on, Ed! You'll get to see your brother!" Winry replied in a soothing voice. And besides, he got to make fun of them, didn’t he? She probably should have denied such a pleasure, but Winry indulged him. After all, that was her guilty pleasure as well, one that she'd never admit in front of Edward- although she had a hint that he knew, because he'd sometimes wink at her when making fun of Roy.

 

Their discussion was interrupted by a wild race down the stairs, the winner being the biggest of their children. Penelope was right behind him, tied with Sarah. Evidence pointed towards an inheritance from her father’s side when it came to physical condition. As a ‘reward’ for the winner, Winry waited for them at the bottom of the stairs, stomping her foot against the wooden floor. The contestants stopped dead in their tracks at her mighty gaze.

 

“No running down the stairs,” she said in a tone that admitted no comeback. They all nodded and gulped.

 

“Oh come on Winry, let them have fun!” Ed argued from the kitchen. He emerged out the door with a towel in his hands, wiping off the sweat he had worked out during the household activities.

 

“And bandage them later? No thank you,” she answered, annoyed he wasn’t taking her side.

 

“They’ll be careful, right guys?” he directed the question to the kids, who all nodded in agreement. Winry just sighed and freed the way, gesturing for them to go out and play. Yuriy stopped to hug her shortly before they all ran out, leaving a small smile on his mother’s face.

 

“You’re all too indulging,” she told Edward when they were alone. He just scraped the back of his neck.

 

“I just want them to enjoy themselves to the fullest,” he answered earnestly with a nostalgic look. Winry remember that at  that age, Ed would most likely have been learning Alchemy to resurrect his dead mother and bit her lower lip, understanding his point of view. She dropped the subject afterwards, blocking her mind from remembering the burning house and automail arm.

 

Before they had a chance to return to the kitchen, Roy also made his way into the living room, following the kids outside.

 

“You joining them?” Winry asked, receiving a nod.

 

“Ehh, what’s an old guy like you doing playing kids games, Mustang?” Ed couldn’t help from running his mouth, annoying the raven-haired in their usual ritual of back-and-forth snappy comebacks.

 

‘Yeah…’ Winry thought again, listening to the familiar sound of bickering and taking in her husband, her family, her house and Resembool. ‘Home is the best!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> here I am, with the promised update. Hopefully you've enjoyed this chapter. Also, I hope I've done a good job with Winry-I really love her and I would have loved to give her a chapter focused more on mechanics, but I suck at that! I promise I'll wor on it though and make her career shine more in my next fic. Just so you know it, my headcanon is that she helps automail extend in Creta and Xing (more on that in future chapters, though).  
> As always, kudos, comment and reread!


	3. Of Guns, Clothes and Sidelines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unpacking is the perfect excuse for Riza to recall her position as the wife of the Fuhrer, his personal guard and Elizabeth all at the same time. Or, as I like to call it, in which Riza crosses the sideline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be posted in two parts because it was too long to post all at once. The reason for its length is that it explains a lot of what happened to team Mustang after the Promised Day, so I hope you enjoy this political/sentimental ride.
> 
> Also, bear with the first descriptive part. It has more of a metaphorical meaning than anything else. You can skip to the dress if you want action:)

Riza was putting their stuff away in the surprisingly spacious wardrobe of the Elrics' guest room, while Roy was resting on the bed. He had literally plopped there as soon as they arrived, making Riza worry that she pushed him too hard with carrying all of the luggage alone. Although it could also be just him acting like a drama queen, she reminded herself. He did have an innate talent for that, after all.

 

Meanwhile, Penelope was doing a tour of the house with the two little Elrics. 

 

"Maybe I should go check on them," Roy groaned as he tried getting up from the bed. Riza turned to him with a reassuring smile, still feeling guilty about the whole bet-thing, and pushed him back down gently.

 

"They'll be fine, he's not gonna eat her!" she assured him, slightly amused at Roy’s overprotectiveness.

 

"I still think we should keep them apart," he argued, tugging at the neat sheets on the bed. "They're too familiar with each other!" he said with an ounce of irritation.

 

"They're kids, Roy!" Riza answered, suppressing a laugh caught in her throat-years of practice in the military paid off when it came to acting skills. 

 

He was so protective when it came to Penelope that it was actually cute. Well it was also true that the little girl was daddy’s daughter: she loved spending time with him and would stay glued to him whenever he had free time. Not to say she didn’t love her mother: she adored her! But her dad was in a whole other league, which did make Riza feel a bit jealous sometimes. Fortunately, Roy made sure to make up for that later. She was actually glad Nel got so attached to Roy, since it made the man smile and it gave him strength and motivation to keep him going as a Führer.

 

“I know…” Roy sighed, covering his eyes with a hand. “Yuriy is a good guy,” he added fondly, which reminded Riza of how attached he actually was to the Elric family. “But I don’t want to let my little girl go yet.”

 

“And you won’t.” Riza giggled, finally unable to suppress the laughter anymore. “She’s still only four, she isn’t going anywhere.”

 

Roy took his hand off his eyes and got up to a sitting position. “Yeah… I was just being paranoid, right?” Riza nodded in answer. “Seriously, I don’t know what I'd do without the two of you!” The Flame Alchemist declared with a loving look. 

 

“We don’t know either.” She stated simply, because this was, after all, a fact.

 

Riza returned his fond gaze when he looked away. She still found it peculiar how good an actor he was. While Mustang was an uptight ruler at work and had a firm set of morals that he did his best not to stray from, yet still keeping his reputation as an womanizer intact -which explained the pitiful looks Riza received at her wedding reception- his real persona always showed deep consideration for others and he had a tendency to put his subordinates above him. As such, it was only natural for Roy to be worried about the well-being of his only daughter- his biggest treasure. 

 

She wondered if she was able to keep up the front as well as her husband did. ‘For those who don’t know me, probably,’ she answered her own question.

 

Without him, Riza knew she wouldn’t have joined the military and Nel would never have existed. And while Roy never said it aloud, she just knew he sometimes wondered if that would have been better for her. Each time, she shook her head softly and talked in a categoric tone,“I disagree, sir!” He’d look at her slightly amused, the frown disappearing from his face. 

 

“Stop reading my mind, Lieutenant,” he’d order her, smiling. And yet she knew so well that smile didn’t ease his consciousness. It just helped him make it through the day.

 

“Since when are you a master of words, Riza?” Roy asked, surprised at her comeback. 

 

She just smiled mysteriously and answered with a sly smile, “Since I am the one in charge today.” At this, Roy raised his arms in an ‘I surrender’ manner, snickering goofily.

 

“Dad!” Penelope’s voice announced her sudden presence in the door frame. Riza was at a loss of words for describing the feeling that hearing Nel’s voice nestled in her. It was like hearing the song of a bird announcing spring, or like hearing the comforting sound of the waves crashing against the shore. It sounded like home, just as Hayate’s bark or Roy’s voice did.

 

Her parents’ looks turned to her and they could both see her hand holding Sarah’s in a big-sisterish gesture, Yuriy in toe.

 

“What is it, Nel?” Roy answered, raising an eyebrow. It looked like the kids were up to something. That scheming smirk the mother spotted on Yuriy’s face was rarely a good thing, Riza knew from experience.

 

“We need one more person for red-light-green-light. Will you play with us?” The little girl asked, widening her eyes in a successful attempt of making puppy-dog irresistible eyes. She simply knew this couldn’t leave her father indifferent. He locked eyes with his wife, his eyebrows quirked in an ‘I’d like to but I’m pretty old, you know?’

 

Riza could read the question in Roy’s eyes and she shook her head swiftly. She pointed to the window in a gesture that read, ‘You’re not too old, go play!’ In response, the man nodded and smiled, thanking her wordlessly before whipping his head to face his daughter.

 

“Sure, I’ll play. You’ll need to teach me the rules though.” He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Penelope let go of Sarah’s hand to pull her dad off the bed  and rush downstairs, all the while making small loops around him in excitement. Riza looked after them with a content face. It had been a while since the two had some time together, so it was nice seeing them bond. And it was a relief that they weren’t up to anything dangerous, too.

 

“Ont Iza?” a child’s voice came from near her. The “ont Iza” in question looked towards the source of it- Sarah was tugging on her trousers as she asked, “You play too?” 

 

Riza might have once been part of the military, but that didn’t mean she liked denying children their pleasures, even less so when she knew just how much Sarah loved playing with her, and the feeling was reciprocated. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I have to unpack,” she answered in a soft tone, leaning towards the little girl and patting her head.

“Come after” the little one argued back with a fierce look and firm tug that melted Riza’s heart. She bowed down and hugged Sarah, who yelped in contentment.

 

She finally assured her with a whisper, “I will.”

 

“Pinky promise!” the girl insisted, extending her small hand. Riza’s heart instantly warmed up with a degree. For a moment, the image of a small Winry overlapped with Sarah’s face, blending together with the same intensity in those blue eyes. She linked her slender finger with the chubby one and shook it three times as a promise. This accomplishment spread a grin on Sarah’s face and she held her  “ont’s” gaze before running off to honor her brother’s call to join the game.

 

Riza felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth without her agreement as she watched the little girl run out of the room and stumble on the way. If she could sense the  _ qi  _ around her like Al did, she’d probably feel it flowing through everyone around her, and even through herself, everything linked in harmony. 

 

But what she was good at feeling was danger- and she sensed none at the moment. All she sensed was how tired the muscles around her mouth were from the smile that must have split her face in two. Being a mother especially required a wide range of expressions. She had learned how to get used to these grins, but still prefered to let only close friends see them. 

 

She resumed taking the clothes out of the coffers, folding them and placing them on the shelves in the wardrobe. The action felt almost mechanic, giving her a sense of comfort in what was otherwise an unfamiliar place. The Elrics’ home was nice, but it wasn’t her own house. Yes, Riza knew she had nothing to be afraid of here, but being the wife/personal bodyguard of the Führer came with the bad habit of being constantly aware of her surroundings. Under such pressure, having something to do felt like a relief; and since she couldn’t go shooting dummies, she had to make do with folding away the clothes.

 

Riza took out Roy’s T-shirt and engraved the foreign sight and touch of the unusual material in her mind. It felt like she hadn’t seen him wearing casual clothes in forever. She glanced outside the window, to where he was being ‘it’. Even casual clothes suited him, but it felt strange seeing him without the blue uniform and polished shoes. It reminded her of when they were young and didn’t carry the weight of a nation’s fate on their shoulders. 

 

Riza looked back at the shirt and frowned: when did cheesy lines like ‘the fate of a nation’ get in her vocabulary? She brushed the thought aside and folded the shirt.

 

Talking about the ‘fate of a nation’ was what amateurs did- people who looked from afar, those who were ‘being carried’. For those involved, it was a matter of properly doing their job. For Roy, it was a matter of fulfilling his dream and changing Amestris. For Riza herself, it was a matter of protecting and aiding him in any way she could. Beautifying the situation or using grand words wasn’t going to change the reality.

 

She proceeded by taking out another T-shirt and then another one. In order to give herself something to do, she started counting them: there were 10, one for each day they were going to spend in Resembool plus three extra. ‘Of course’ she thought, ‘every true tactician has an alternative solution in case of need’. 

 

Moreover, it looked like years spent with his adoptive sisters made Mustang be careful of his exterior appearance, too. Maybe too much, she completed, remembering how he used to be called a womanizer… until he got married to the ‘most uptight and stoic military woman, what is Mustang thinking?!’ she quoted… She didn’t even knew who- almost everyone said that. She wondered when she started paying attention to what those around her said.

 

It certainly hadn’t been when she was a teenager and neither when she decided on joining the military. If she had lent an ear to her friends back then, she would have never joined as a ‘dog of the state’. 

 

Neither was it during her years in the Academy, or she would have heard men around her talking about the ‘blondie chick that can shoot’. 

 

Thinking back, it wasn’t even when she saw her superior's eyes widen in surprise back in Ishval- if it was after him, Hawkeye would have still lived in her home town. 

 

It probably was when she had to eavesdrop to make sure of Mustang’s safety. And it was then that she first heard rumors about ‘The blonde one… Mustang doesn’t have bad taste’ and all the ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Awws’ coming with it.

 

‘Really, all my bad habits come from him.’ Riza joked with her inner self. Of course she put an end to those rumors by becoming the best shooter the military had yet seen and by getting promoted to Lieutenant faster than all her Academy classmates. Moreover, Mustang soon recruited Havoc, which helped calm the rumors down. Newcomers always take the center of attention. With the come of Breda, people starting gossiping about how Hawkeye was the only girl, so Mustang came up with the womanizer act.\

 

What the others didn’t know was that the ‘girls’ he called were actually his teammates, who received girlish nicknames to relieve the stress of the Lieutenant’s shoulders. She actually remembered insisting on not going through the hassle, but Mustang was so proud of his idea no-one could possibly change his mind. Plus, Roy proudly called her ‘the one and only Elizabeth’ and would still sometimes call her as such when they were alone.

 

Riza snorted at the memory. It was a quiet snort that she didn’t exteriorize. She decided to cut the walk down memory lane short and focus on unpacking. Reminiscing was for those with time on their hands, and although she was on holiday, she couldn’t just slack off.

 

With Roy’s T-shirts all piled up neatly in the wardrobe, she took the jeans out and put them next to the shirts. Four pairs was more than enough, but on the basis of their bet, she insisted on packing two sets of shorts-despite being fully aware that Roy hated them- and woolen socks. One could say that she liked making fun of the fact that, despite being The Flame Alchemist, Roy had unusually cold feet. She, however, argued that ‘teasing’ was merely stating the facts in a slightly mischievous tone.

 

Once all of his stuff was out of the way, she looked at the full shelves, proud of herself. A strange feeling, this happiness of being able to make the smallest things for those you loved. 

 

In fact, if someone had told Riza a few years ago that she would be the wife of the current Führer, she would have asked that person if they were drunk. And that was precisely because she was sure that Roy would be the next leader of Amestris, or else she wouldn’t have fallen for him in the first place. And it wasn’t that she doubted his feelings for her, either- they have learnt to communicate without words a long time ago. 

 

What she couldn’t have believed was that she’d be so reckless as to accept his proposal. But when he asked her, the answer ‘yes’ flew from her lips without consulting her brain; she never once regretted that. It was one of the few times Riza had said something without thinking, and now, six years later, she was still happy she had followed her gut feeling.

 

She took out a blouse of her own and placed it on the shelf beneath Roy’s things. After crouching to put the other stuff there a few times, her back started aching, so she moved them to the shelf next to Roy’s.

 

Another bad habit she picked up in the military, Riza pondered, was to always be a step beneath Roy Mustang. Once she stepped down from her position as colonel, she didn’t need to keep up this habit. However, unless he took her hand and dragged her next to him, she would keep doing it out of inertia. At a certain point he actually had to set secret gesture that would subtly tell her to walk by his side, since he got tired of always calling out to her.

 

She had to admit, she normally could get used to changing her habits much easier, but being by his side didn’t feel natural at first. Riza always felt insecure, since she couldn’t watch his back anymore and she used to look over her shoulder several times a minute.

 

“I’m not gonna be attacked in plain sight, Riza,” Roy used to argue, half amused by her caution and half worried by her constant concern.

 

In time, she got used to it. She had to. In public, she was always by his side, as if they were glued together. Riza looked at this change as a graduation from “watching over his life from a step behind” to “living life together with him, watching out for danger together”. She knew that if she ever told Roy, he’d laugh at her, saying they have always walked together. But the way Riza saw it, she was on the sidelines, watching out for him. And for the longest time, she had been content with that.

 

Lost in thought, Riza didn’t realise she was almost done unpacking her stuff until she stumbled across one of her favourite clothing pieces: a white button-up shirt. It was comfortable and quite classy at the same time, and the material was satisfying- it withstood several washes and it still felt smooth and silky. 

 

Despite all these obvious advantages, when she bought it with Becca, she rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly, “You’re a lost cause!” she answered to Riza’s dumbfounded look, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder and adding, “Don’t you want something more flashy?”

 

Riza pondered her answer for a moment and settled on saying, “Not really. As long as it’s practical, I’m fine with white.” The comeback made Becca frown in disparagement. She took her friend’s hand, and pulled her towards the exit.

 

“We’re going shopping.” Riza didn’t shook off Rebecca’s grip.

 

“We are shopping,” She said plainly. The black-haired woman turned to her with an irritated look and tamed her voice to her best ability.

 

“I mean we’re going to buy you something  _ sexy _ .” She stressed the last word in almost a hiss, doing a bad job at hiding her feelings. Riza shrugged- arguing against Becca was pointless when she had something on her mind. As such, she complied, raising a single request.

 

“Let me check this one out first.” She pointed to the white shirt in her hand. Becca nodded, more so that they’d get faster to the “real” shopping than out of understanding.

 

Riza smiled as she folded the shirt in question, putting it on the shelf. Catalina was certainly the one who cared more about her exterior aspect, taking full advantage of every occasion for socialisation out of the military. So of course she’d choose a new dress- even if her wardrobe didn’t have any more place for them- for the Führer’s birthday ball. 

 

It was unusual to throw a party in the military, but Führer Grumman wasn’t one to conform to the rules. He was unpredicted, wild, and, most importantly, wanted his granddaughter to have fun.

 

This was another reason for which she took up Becca on her offer. She guessed fulfilling her grandfather’s wish every now and then wasn’t going to bring the end of the world upon them. 

 

And so, fate- in the person of a black-haired clothing demon- took her in front of thousands of dresses- a mere estimation made by Hawkeye on first glance, but she knew she shouldn’t underestimate the power of clothes shop, for they had twice the amount on display in their stock. This was information from Rebecca, who was a reliable source in the fashion domain.

 

“Now  _ this  _ is what I call shopping!” Becca exclaimed, her good mood returning miraculously at the sight. 

 

Riza wandered how her friend could be so happy when she herself felt her energy levels sinking. Once again she questioned their weird friendship.

 

An hour later, Riza had found nothing, save for a lot of strange and potentially suspicious people. As she passed the racks, all she could do was dismiss each dress with thoughts along the lines of: ‘too short’; ‘too tight’; ‘this will get tighter after the first wash’; ‘this colour hurts my eyes’ and, most often: ‘the back is too low here’. 

 

After around 15 minutes it became clear to her she wasn’t going to find much, so she instead started looking through the racks at the people. Most often women, but there were also men there, probably looking for a gift or waiting for their wifes. She had to hand it to a guy who complimented his girlfriend on a dress for 10 minutes straight, and yet still found new aspects to comment on. She would have recruited that man into the military if she could-their team needed a sweet-talker that wasn’t considered a despicable womanizer.

 

Another one (seemingly a cross-dresser) was looking for something really tight. Riza knew appearances could give off false impressions, but she decided to keep track of this guy just in case- harmless was the last word she would have used to describe him.

 

She wondered yet again why she had accepted Becca’s offer after she ran out of people to survey. She already owned two dresses that were, in her opinion, eligible. They didn’t match Rebecca’s definition of fancy, nor were they purposefully created to bring out one’s femininity, but they were elegant, decent and very practical. What more did she need? 

 

She met Becca again at the end of one of the seemingly unending racks and received a large grin from her friend. “Found anything?” she asked.

 

The blonde had to will all of her power into not letting her jaw drop at the sight of the fourteen- she counted twice- hangers that the Lieutenant carried in her hands. It looked like military training could come in handy even when shopping. She raised her eyebrows in response, glancing at her own bare hands.

 

“Thought so!” Becca grinned, shoving five of the hangers in Riza’s face. “So I picked some up for you.” The gun-woman took them from her friend’s hands, examining them. “Let’s try them on!” Becca ushered her, before she could get a good look at the dresses.

 

Once in the changing room, Riza got a chance to examine them carefully. To her pleasant surprise, most of them were decent. She couldn’t even address them any of the previous complaints. She couldn’t help but wonder whether Rebecca was some kind of magician, picking them up so fast and having such a good eye for them. ‘Experience,’ Riza answered her own question, shrugging.

 

She took out the first dress, a dark, ocean-blue one. It seemed to have an appropriate length, tight enough to be feminine, comfortable enough to move in and even hide a gun under it. The material was also soft and pleasant at touch, but Riza doubted this was more than an one-occasion dress, so she moved the hanger to the “no” pile.

 

The next one was purple, sharing mostly the same attributes as the previous one but being more eye-catching. She liked it, but attention-grabbing wasn’t what Riza was going for, so she placed it in the “maybe” category.

 

The third one was lucky: red velvet, short sleeves, decent length, nice material, reasonable price, Riza checked. She got it off from the hanger and started unbuttoning her shirt to try it on.

 

“Rizaaa, have you decided on one yet?” the impatient voice of her friend called from outside.

 

“Just a minute, I’m putting it on!”

 

Less than a minute later, Riza was opening the curtain to reveal the result. Rebecca said nothing for a few moments, only gesturing for Hawkeye to turn around. She then suddenly unclipped her hair in a swift motion, allowing the blond locks to flow on her back and contrast with the dark color of the fabric. 

 

“There!” Rebecca said, proud of herself, “Now look in the mirror and tell me I don’t have good taste!” she dared Riza.

 

And so she did. She stared at the mirror, frightened and amazed by the change at the same time. If was feminine- so unlike her usual attire, yet the spitting image in the mirror was unmistakably hers. Unused to the sight, Riza needed to blink a few times before she could finally recognize herself and form an opinion.

 

“How is it?” The dark-haired was watching Riza’s reaction attentively, unable to hide a grin. “You like it, right?”

 

“I do,” the blonde answered, taken aback by the honesty of the answer herself. She felt surprisingly comfortable and confident in this. She always had a feeling showy dresses would make her feel exposed and unable to properly fight, but the confidence this dress was giving her was different.

 

“Why the hell don’t you wear dresses more often?!” Rebecca voiced what must have weight on her mind for a while, while Riza was putting back on her civilian clothes.

 

“I didn’t have any occassion to,” she answered, which was true. The other reason, she realised now, was that the sense of femininity these gave her was almost like a drug. Sure, she could enjoy a night of it, but her whole life? No, she had a vow to fulfill

 

“Well, this is sure to throw even Mustang off his feet,” Rebecca winked, making Riza roll her eyes. The former giggled, brushing off the problem by changing the subject.

 

“It’s my turn now!”

 

And so, they spent the next two hours deciding on a dress for Rebecca, with Hawkeye nodding or shaking her head in disagreement and commenting on how suitable each was, learning from the previous customer.

 

As they left the store, Hawkeye held on tight to the bag with the dress, feeling that another part of her had just been revealed and was now resting in the plastic bag in her hand. She thought that might be the Elizabeth Roy kept talking of. A side he might have seen before she herself had acknowledged its existence… That thought weighed on her mind for the rest of the shopping trip.

 

***

 

Riza stepped into the reception hall, a interminably long- or so she would have liked to say, but she new it was 36.4 metres long- and wide space with an expensive crystal chandelier lighting it. If she had to describe the place in one word, it would have been extravagant-as extravagant as the idea of celebrating the Führer’s birthday with a ball.

 

She was wearing the velvet dress along with a matching purse in her hands, her nails-longer than usual- tapping the soft material as she looked around the hall for her unit. Her heels clicked against the marble floor and with each step and sound that came with it, she felt her back arching straighter, her confidence growing and eyes stuck on her. She wasn’t one to like being in the centre of attention or one to care for the other’s opinion on her, but Riza felt she needed to give this new self of hers a proper introduction to the world.

 

Rebecca waved to her first, spotting her in the ever growing crowd that was flooding the ballroom. Seeing her wave made the rest of the unit whip their heads around, already knowing who had arrived. What they didn’t know was what she look like when she did.

 

Judging from their puzzled expressions, Riza gathered that the reaction was positive. She weighed the simpers breaking their faces in two as she approached them, intentionally stepping slower, mocking their reaction with her body language. This wasn’t a reaction she often received, and their uncharacteristic behaviour made her realise how shallow humans were. Herself included.

 

“Good evening.” she greeted as she got in their hearing range, to which Havoc responded with a nod and a gulp while Fuery averted his eyes with a slight blush. Falman kept his usual cool-there was still some hope for the human race after all- but Breda couldn’t help but comment, in his usual cheerful tone:

 

“Well that’s an unexpected look, Hawkeye.”

 

Riza smiled under her breath-some things never changed. Breda’s loud mouth was what stood between him and the girlfriend he and Havoc went hunting for at the end of the week in the bars. That and his love for donuts, Riza added to her own remark.

 

“Well you are certainly dressed up too, gentlemen.” She looked around for the missing members of their team. Her focus shifted as soon as she was greeted by Armstrong, though. Being almost crushed in an unprofessional-to say the least- embrace wasn’t exactly allowing her to survey her surroundings. She managed politely evade the hug before it broke her ribs.

 

“Don’t I just make miracles?” Riza faintly heard Catalina comment with the other men while she exchanging pleasantries with Armstrong. 

 

She returned soon to her unit, stopping the mumbles with her trademark firm gaze. Some things never changed, indeed.

 

The “missing boss”, as Breda addressed him, finally joined the group as well. The night was still young, yet he seemed to have gone through a tough battle all by himself. He even needed to stop one of the waiters and grab a glass of wine before he could answer Havoc’s question. “Where were you, sir?”

 

“I have been caught by General Armstrong, who attempted worm information out of me about the Creta case. As if I’d give her an advantage!” he almost spitted his last sentence. He was so angry he didn’t even notice Riza’s presence, caught up in his continuing dispute with Olivia Armstrong. Riza quietly listened, trying to play the scene out in her head and pitying her superior at the same time. The other blonde possessed the rare gift of being able to draw out one’s energy with just her intimidating stare.

 

After emptying the glass, Mustang finally seemed to acknowledge Riza’s presence. Mustang turned around to greet her. Her trained eye couldn’t miss how his eyes lingered on her slightly more than usual, but she decided not to comment on that.

 

“Sir, I hope you have not dropped your guard down just because we are at the party.” she admonished him.

 

“No, Colonel Hawkeye. My missing to sense your presence is just a testimony for your capacity of infiltration and thus not a failure of mine.”

 

She fixed him with an unimpressed look, which made him shrug defensively. Riza only broke off her stare when Rebecca subtly implied that she should be letting her boss enjoy the party and that she herself should do the same.

 

“How’s the party?” Riza asked, trying her best not to cross her arms as she usually did at work. She took in her surroundings and the people approaching their group either to talk to Mustang or to ask her or Catalina dancing, which she bluntly refused- she might dress nicely when circumstances asked for it, but that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t know how to dance “to save her life”, Riza quoted her.

 

“Lively now that you joined,” Roy answered half-ironically and half-truthfully, throwing Riza an accusing look. She simply rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the windows. Everything seemed safe there.

 

“Anyway, I didn’t know you owned such an outfit,” Roy remarked as they distanced themselves from the group to grab a glass of champagne. Riza sipped hers before answering, buying time to think.

 

“I did not until a few days ago, when a certain colleague dragged me out for shopping,” she said, the implications obvious. The man smirked.

 

“You don’t seem too happy with that.” He enjoyed seeing her frown, she could tell that much. “Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing it on display more often,” he added. He hadn’t made remarks like those in a while. With the hectic Creta business to take care off, their personal affairs were pushed lower on the priority list. 

 

She nodded in thanks for the compliment, surprised that she had missed them. Guilty that she wanted to hear more.

 

Riza realized she hadn’t noticed when they had entered in the inner garden. Night was casting its gown on the quiet patio. With the hot day almost over, the chilly breeze felt delightful.

 

“That’s a pretty roundabout way of putting it,” Riza pointed out once she made sure no uninvited guests were eavesdropping. 

 

They were walking along the paved garden paths now, occasionally sipping their champagne and enjoying the evening breeze. She looked at the buds of beautiful roses and glanced at the butterflies flying from one flower to the other. 

 

They were waking two rows of pavers away, their hands swaying along their sides, the glasses purposefully placed in the hand apart from the thin line dividing them.

 

“Isn’t everything we do roundabout, Riza?” He asked in response, looking at her. The woman felt her gaze fixated on him, his look holding hers, unable to shift it away. She jerked slightly at the use of her first name, but it sounded so natural when he said it in that voice filled with sorrow and regret. She nodded bleakly.

 

Nice music filled the nursery at once, rhythmic tones that seemed not to read the tense atmosphere. In the impulse of the moment and probably under the effect of the drug that was the romantic atmosphere, she took a step closer to him, narrowing the distance.

 

“Care for a dance?” Roy asked awkwardly. Riza looked at him bewildered, but her head moved on her own to nod and her hand extended to take Roy’s, apparently without having been instructed by the brain to do so because there was a small voice there that muttered, ‘This isn’t good, this is fraternization, Riza! Stop right there, young lady!’. 

 

The voice was spouting a stream of  lines she could have used to refuse him. ‘You know I can’t dance’ and ‘Would that be appropriate, Sir?’ were some of the first that came to mind. But instead, all she did was cross the last line of pavers that separated them and take him up on his offer. 

 

She at least still had enough presence of spirit to say, “We should let the glasses down.” 

 

Roy nodded, and she could see a slight blush spreading over his cheeks. She couldn’t confirm it, but she was sure her face wore a matching one.

 

Still holding hands, they made their way to a nearby bench, where they let the two glasses rest next to each other. Riza put her purse down too, and then turned to face the man next to her. Holding his hand felt nice- it was bigger than hers and much warmer. ‘Perks of being able to control fire,’ she found the explanation.

 

There weren’t many people in the garden, and those who had enjoyed the coming of summer up to then rushed inside when the music started. Most likely because music meant the food was also being served. As such, they were left alone under the rays of the setting sun. 

 

Despite not knowing how to dance, Riza found herself easily moving under Roy’s lead. Letting herself swirl with the tones of the melody, she allowed her mind to wonder. She let herself become Elizabeth, a normal girl that enjoyed Roy’s affections. A girl Hawkeye had never met before.

 

Elizabeth let her head rest on Roy’s chest and hummed along with the music, happily. She wish that could go on forever.

 

The sun aimed his last rays at the glasses of champagne and the purse on the bench. From behind the zipper of the purse, the glint of a gun reflected the light, shining on Riza’s red dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I hope you guys have enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter is Mama Hawkeye and how Riza became the Representant of the Nation. I hope you've liked it!  
> As always, kudos, comment reread! Much love to every reader out there!


	4. Of Official Calls and Scary Blondes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of Riza's ten years gap-filling, this time with Penelope and Military Affairs (and a lot of scary Olivia Armstrong because I can never get enough of her).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more entertaining than the last one, though the actual fun starts in chapter 5. I'm sorry for that, I just needed to lay the mood and paint Amestris as it is now in big lines, so that I can give free reign to the sheningans about to ensue. This time, you're getting Military Royai and Parental!Riza:)

Before she knew it, Riza had almost reached the bottom of her luggage. At the bottom of the suitcase, wrapped between two T-shirts, a white map stole her attention. She jolted and threw a brief look outside, where Penelope was now being ‘it’. Making sure that no one was watching her, she scooped up the folder and buried it under her clothes.

 

That file contained all of the most important information on the welfare of the citizens. Their complaints, the budget allocated to each city and the most important issues from each quarter of Amestris, along with the statements of the four Administrators-all of that secret information was sealed between the white covers of the heavy binder.

 

Riza knew that if Roy had seen her bring her work along on holiday, he’d groan. However, she couldn’t let such an important file alone at home. Not when she was in charge of the four Administrators.

 

Her position weighed heavy on her shoulders. Riza never thought she would have any position of power after accepting Roy’s proposal and stepping down from the military position of Colonel she hold. 

 

But then one day, she got a call.

 

“Hawkeye,” the voice on the other end said, and Riza knew it was something serious. Her husband never called during a meeting to goof around-especially not when Prime Minister Armstrong was attending.

 

“Yes?” she answered in an even tone, prepared for anything. He rarely bothered her on days off. Teaching at the Academy, giving the students lessons on both the laws of the country and shooting practice was quite the taxing job.

 

“Could you make it to the Meeting Room in 20? Havoc will get you in ten. Formal attire,” he announced her promptly, not diving into details.

 

“Sir!” she said before the line went silent.

 

She changed into a two-piece suit with the speed of a soldier, analysing the situation she was faced with.

 

Had anything gone wrong with investing the four Administrators at the meeting? But if so, what could cause a hitch in the system? The hardest part had already seen the light of the day- Armstrong had accepted the daring idea and the motion had passed. This was the first step towards demilitarizing Amestris-naming caretakers for the four districts of the country: North, East, South and West. Glancing at the clock as she locked the door, she realised the meeting couldn’t possibly be over. 

 

The Fuhrer wouldn’t call her just for an errand, either- Havoc or Fuery ran most of those. No, authority transcended from his tone when he called her. Riza’s heart tightened. She stuck the hairpin in her bun and glimpsed in the mirror. Formal he had requested, formal she was. 14 minutes left.

 

She climbed down the stairs quickly, her heels clicking against the hard cement. Outside, the dark car of the Führer was waiting for her. She greeted the guards- living in the presidential house still felt presumptuous to her- and got in the car.

 

“Yo,” Havoc greeted her, stomping his cigarette against the wheel. Riza got in the passenger's seat and fastened her seatbelt.

 

“Hey, Havoc. Any idea as to why I’m summoned?” she asked her driver, who just shrugged as he pressed the acceleration.

 

“Nope. Mustang just told me to get you,” he answered as they drove out through the imposing iron gates and took a right towards Central Quarters.

 

Riza mulled over what awaited her throughout the ride. By the point the car had been parked in front of the stone building, she had narrowed it all down to one possibility. And if she was right, Mustang was an idiot jeopardizing the position he had worked so hard for. She hoped she was wrong.

 

The feel of the steps under her feet was familiar, but being the one walking ahead felt unusual. Havoc was now matching his pace to hers, keeping a good two feet behind. She was greeted by soldiers and she greeted them back, the gesture still fresh after all those years of practice.

 

They soon found themselves in front of a grandiose ulm door, from behind which she could hear the high pitch of a very familiar voice, as well as the firm come-back of another well-known stern speaker.

 

“Professor Hawkeye is here,” Havoc announced with the click of the heels as he opened the door to the scene Riza had already pictured. From his seat, Edward Elric was bending over the long meeting table and pointing to Olivia Armstrong, sitting on the Fuhrer’s left. Alphonse Elric was standing next to his brother and gently tugging his shirt as a sign to make him sit, with a reconciling look on his face. At the head of the table, Roy Mustang was resting his chin on the top of his intertwined hands and looking over the situation calmly, pondering his next move.

 

As Riza’s arrival was announced, he lifted his chin from his hands and nodded at her. The others turned too, pinning their eyes on the new character. She swallowed inaudibly while clicking her heels together in salute. Riza dreaded being in the spotlight.

 

“Welcome, Hawkeye,” the Führer greeted in return. 

 

She let her hand drop from her forehead and looked across the room, revising the presence of each and every one of the politicians. 

 

To Mustang’s left, Prime Minister Olivia Armstrong. The current leader had also included that position along with the Ministers to keep better track of the affairs. However, he had full decisional power, as he argued Amestris was not yet prepared to make decisions for itself and needed someone who had the country’s best interest in mind to take decisions.

 

Next to her, Vato Falman, currently designated as the North Administrator. During the brainstorming session, Miles was also brought up as an eligible choice, but right now, he was pretty much the official link between a Scar-ruled Ishval and Amestris. That position couldn’t be entrusted to anyone else, so the position went to Falman without further ado.

 

It was funny that he was there with the rest of the team during the debates and Mustang needed to silence him during North’s discussion, only giving him the right to talk at the end.

 

Next to him sat Colonel Maria Ross, designated South Administrator. At first, Riza proposed Colonel Armstrong for the job, but Roy made it a rule not to put State Alchemists as leaders since that would make people feel like they were being watched by someone who could hurt them. Her next proposal, Ross, was an exemplary soldier and having a woman in the national affairs proved a point against discrimination. A choice fit for South, the team unanimously agreed.

 

Next to her was the Armstrong brother in question, who seemed to be shining as per usual. Of course, he played an important role as well, being the Minister of Defense. At first, his sister argued against the idea, saying he was too much of a pansy. Mustang won in the end, though, proudly coming home that night and declaring he had won an argument against the Iron Lady, as he called her.

 

Small in comparison, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Damiano Douglas, was occupying the place next to Armstrong. The man had been under The Flame Alchemist’s command in Ishval and has proved plenty useful on the Promised Day. Afterwards, Mustang decided to bring him as part of his unit and had grown to admire the fact that he was quick on the uptake and had a likeable personality, as well as a quirk for making good decisions quickly- perfect for dealing with the neighbouring countries. No one could argue that Douglas was the perfect guy to shake hands with. And so, he was in the ministry.

 

Across from him was the Minister of Finance, Izumi Curtis. Mustang had to hand it to the woman: she could be scary, she did her job well and she was good at managing the founds- a housewife, as she herself said so often. Plus, she was one of the few people Mustang knew who could stand up to both him and Armstrong, so when Breda proposed her for the role, the Fuhrer could only obey.

 

Next to her sat (or rather, stood) her dear students. Edward and Alphonse Elric, the former Administrator of the West-he had spent quite some time there and was in good relationships with the leaders from Creta and Aerugo-and the latter Administrator of East, as he not only was he affiliated with Xing, but he also grew up there and was much beloved by the nation.

 

Finally, completing the crew was Liam Roach, Minister of Justice, Education and Health. He was  Armstrong’s only accepted proposal: after a period of trail, Roy decided his kind nature would make him suitable for this role and gave in to the woman.

 

Riza took in each person and then looked straight at the country’s leader, measuring him with her look. As she had thought, he seemed tense. He spoke in an even voice, words carefully chosen.

 

“You may take a seat,” Riza complied, “As you know, this is a meeting to invest each Administrator with power to rule over one quarter of the country.” He stopped, piercing through her with his cool gaze. “There is yet one role to be given. That is the role of the overall Administrator, whose job will be similar to that of a Minister of Internal Affairs. They would also be part of the parliament.” 

 

He closed his eyes for a split second to inhale, but Riza didn’t miss his gesture. When he opened them, it looked like he had decided the outcome of an inner war. “You have been nominated for that position.”

 

Riza blinked. Once. Twice. Not out of surprise, but because of his last word.  _ Nominated _ , he had said.

 

“May I ask who nominated me?” Before the words flew from her mouth, she realised she knew exactly who. Who could stand up to Mustang and dare disagree with him?

 

“I did,” Olivia Armstrong said, measuring Riza from head to toe.

 

“Madam, if you would excuse my bluntness, don’t you think this would go against the Führer’s goals of equality?” Riza asked, trying to sugarcoat her words.

 

“I don’t see the problem. You are a citizen like any other, and you’re qualified for the job,” Armstrong stated matter-of-factly. Riza kept in a sigh- she understood Edward for letting his anger overflow. However, Armstrong was not the kind of person you wanted to start an argument with.

 

“I don’t think me occupying this position will receive a positive feedback from Amestrians.”

 

“Maybe not at first. They’ll get used to it later.” Armstrong shrugged.

 

“Madam,” Riza repeated categorically, “this will not only have an effect on me, but on the Führer as well.”

 

“I’m with Hawkeye on this one,” Edward interrupted. Riza read worry in Alphonse’s eyes, but Ed’s voice was controlled. “The people won’t stay quiet if Mustang’s wife will have a position of power. Heck, even those in the military will comment!” he claimed, and it all was on point.

 

“Indeed. That’s why I resigned from the military,” Riza completed, thankful to Ed’s sincerity.

 

“Professor Hawkeye,” Falman interfered, “may I say, this isn’t a matter of it being appropriate or not.” Riza raised her eyebrows: she didn’t expect him to speak up, even less to be so categoric about it.

 

“How so? I would like to remind you that the purpose of this change is to reform the idea people have about the military. If so, me becoming part of the Parliament will only repeat, in the eyes of our citizens, what King Bradley did, and that is manipulating them.”

 

“This is a matter of having somebody do the job well, Madam.” Falman answered simply, holding Riza’s stare. “And you are the one for the job.”

 

Riza wanted to answer, but she realised there was nothing she could say to that. That was indeed a matter of fulfilling the tasks at hand, and in the end, that should be what people cared about. And yet, that didn’t change the fact that a huge uproar would be caused. ‘But if not you, who else?’ a voice chimed still hanged in the back of her mind, getting louder and louder with each argument.

 

“This is going to be a handicap for both of you.” Izumi Curtis glanced between Riza and Roy. “And yet, you are here because you could overcome all of your handicaps, are you not?” Curtis asked, fixing Riza with her look. “I’ve only fought alongside you for a short time, but you have the resolve to make it.”

 

The more people talked, the more Hawkeye started wondering if it was right to accept the job. She knew people would gossip, she knew rumors would be spread; but the truth was that she still wanted to be a part of the change Amestris was undergoing. She wanted to walk alongside Roy-she was done being a bystander.

 

“If I may have a word,” Ross got into discussion as well. “I don’t think the feed-back would be positive. People may even try throwing some nasty problems in Mrs. Mustang’s way to make her give up the position.”

 

“I can handle that,” Riza caught herself saying.

 

They kept talking, over-analysing the situation. Hawkeye watched Mustang intently as the others ran their mouths, knowing he had already decided. Realising she had made a decision, too.

 

“That’s enough,” Mustang put a stop to the debate, letting his hands fall on the table. “There are just two questions left: who wants Hawkeye to take the position?” He asked, looking around the table. He was met with concerned and conflicted looks. “I’m not asking whether you think it’s appropriate or not. I’m asking you if you  _ want  _ her to be part of the team. Also, please make abstraction of me and any relation she has to me.”

 

The silence was louder than anything Riza had ever heard.

 

Roach eventually clenched his fist as he answered, “I do.”

 

“Me too,” Al answered next, smiling at Riza. She nodded in return.

Ed slammed his hand across the table and muttered: “Damn it all! Of course I want her to be my boss!”

 

“Yes” Izumi threw a rare smile to Riza. “I want to work alongside you.”

 

“Yes.” Damian said simply, watching his former teammate.

 

“I do,” Ross answered, nodding slightly.

 

“Yes!” Armstrong said, and only now did Riza notice that he almost cried.

 

“I do,” Falman answered as well, locking eyes with Riza. She read the apology for his behaviour written across his face and nodded. Voicing his opinion was nothing to be sorry for.

 

“Yes.” the other Armstrong answered, fixing Mustang with her look. He didn’t avert his gaze. She was the last one to state her wish.

 

“Now then. You have all spoken your mind about the issue. There is still one question. What do  _ you  _ want to do?” Mustang finally said, breaking eye contact with the Prime Minister to look at Riza.

 

Hawkeye felt all eyes turning in her direction. She knew what her answer was.

 

It had always been the same. It wasn’t a matter of what the others thought-it was a matter of her being truthful to her own principles. And her number one principle was listening to her gut feeling.

 

“I’ll do it. However,” she met Mustang’s eyes and allowed him to see her smirk, “I’ll only do it as Riza Hawkeye, not as Elizabeth Mustang.” 

 

“That’s all I needed to know.” Mustang smirked smugly in return. “Now then, I think we all agree that  _ Riza Hawkeye _ will be our Minister of Internal Affairs.” He said, stressing her name.

 

***

 

The last thing to do now was unpack Penelope’s luggage, which was much easier, compared to the previous two.

 

It was strange how small her clothes were in comparison to theirs. She recalled that, when she and Roy first went shopping for baby clothes, before Nel was even born, they needed to ask the shopper if she was sure those would fit a newborn, because they seemed tiny to the adults. Roy even measured them and couldn’t believe 50 centimetres meant so little, to the shopper’s amusement.

 

Right now, Nel was much higher, close to turning five already, but she still barely reached her mother’s waist. Riza wondered how they could even get used to seeing Nel reach their height and didn’t even want to consider the implications of what her daughter reaching that age meant. She was adorable, sweet and healing right now, and Riza found herself wanting to live in the moment.

 

As easy as it was to fold clothes, as hard it was for Riza to imagine life without her daughter. Whenever she came home from work, whenever she felt she had no more energy or when her belief in the human race would decline, Nel reminded her that there was potential. That there were still children out there who could make it worth the work.

 

She had tons of fond memories of her daughter. She was witty and quick on the uptake, but she was still just a child.

 

She recalled that one day, the phone suddenly started ringing. Riza was in her study, brainstorming ideas on how to ease the trade with Aerugo, which found themselves in an unexpected rivalry because of automail’s expansion to Xing and Creta. Although it wasn’t Amestris intent to form any kind of competition, no one could foresee that the friendly relationships with their eastern and western neighbours would make Aerugo feel threatened…

 

Quick, hurried steps were followed by Nel bursting into the study, calling out to Riza.

 

“Mommy, a woman called for you, she says it’s important.” 

 

Riza wondered if it was Ross and got up from her chair, eager to share her newest ideas with the South Representative. As she made it into the hallway to answer the call, Penelope pulled on her trousers.

 

“No, it’s the special phone.” 

 

Riza’s brow knitted. It must have been an important call if it was on that safe line Fuery had installed in the house to connect to Central Headquarters. They only used it for confidential conversations. 

 

As she approached the isolated room for the discussion, Nel had a sudden revelation.

 

“Mommy, I think this was the woman daddy says is always angry. She sounded very,  _ very _ grumpy,” the little one stressed, trying to imitate her voice at the second “very”. Riza needed to bite back a laugh when she heard Penelope. She ruffled her hair lovingly.

 

“If that’s the one, you need to wish mommy ‘good luck’ and not disturb me while I’m on the phone, okay?” Penelope nodded as if she had just been entrusted with someone’s life and hugged Riza tight as to send her all the good vibes.

 

The blonde walked into her husband’s study and picked up the transmitter, closing the door behind her. “Hawkeye speaking. What might I help you with, Prime Minister?”

 

Twenty minutes and being entrusted with yet another case of what became commonly known as ‘the Elric stubbornness’ later, Hawkeye finally walked out of the study. Calls involving Edward always came packed with remarks like “what was Mustang thinking, getting that rash brat to rule the West?” and “that kid has no respect, I swear!” from Armstrong

 

Riza comprehended Ed’s desire of making school obligatory and free for everyone, even more so since Yuriy was already four, but he simply had to understand that such requests needed to be a little bit more sugar coated, especially when they were addressed to someone like the Prime Minister.

 

Riza ran a hand over her forehead and went for the door. She had one more call to make, but she needed a cup of tea first. Her temples were already throbbing.

 

When she tried opening the door, Riza found it heavier than she remembered. ‘Maybe I’m just tired,’ she explained the phenomenon to herself, but soon found a much more believable explanation on the other side of the door. There, her daughter was pinned at the lock-hole. 

 

“Nel?” Riza questioned, arching her eyebrows.

 

“Sorry…” The girl bit on her lower lip. “It’s just… Daddy told me that woman is so scary she could even eat you, so I wanted to make sure you were safe.” The most earnest flush was painted her cheeks, making Riza unable to be mad at her. 

 

She hugged Penelope and assured her, “After you casted that good-luck charm on me, it was impossible for me to be eaten.” The little girl giggled as she hugged her mother back. “Besides, your father probably exaggerated.”

 

“Probably?” Nel questioned, with a sly smirk Riza could only categorize as “Roy-like”. It was amazing how much she inherited- or learned- from her father. Hawkeye broke off the embrace to look at her.

 

“You’ll need to wish me good luck again, because I have to talk to your uncle Ed and he isn’t gonna be quiet,” she sighed. 

 

“Can I talk to Yu-chan too?” Nel’s eyes lit up.

 

“Sure, if he’s there. Come on,” she got up with Nel in her arms and entered the study again, “let’s get this over with.”

 

Nel worked miracles on her headaches, more than any tea ever could.

 

***

 

Later that night, she needed to have a serious discussion with Roy about what he said in front of Nel, because Armstrong wasn’t gonna make his life easy if she ever heard that he called her “a scary forever-alone”. Roy had argued that “the truth can’t be concealed forever” in return.

 

Riza was down before she could delve deeper into the memories roaming in her head. She opened her window, letting the eastern breeze clear her mind and her elbows rest on the window sill.

 

It smelled like fresh grass and summer. The smell of danger was long gone, lost behind the train trails and swallowed by the smell of happiness. She looked at the ones playing, with Roy finally being _ it _ .

 

Just as the game was about to start, Sarah noticed her and started yelling, “You done, ont Iza? Play too!”

 

All the other players looked at her, and waved for her to come down. She unglued her hands from their comfortable place and signaled that she’d be down in a bit. 

 

In her rush to join the game as promised, she let the wardrobe open, as well as the window, and stomped down the stairs and into the warm rays of the sun. The calm wind breezed through the room, flipping at the creases on the clothes, enveloping the now quiet room full of memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter:) Riza is such a great character I can't help but come up with more headcanons for her! However, next time will be dedicated to Xing and Chen Yao, my OC (aka Ling and Lan's child).  
> What headcanons do you guys have about Riza? Let me know! As always, comments and kudos are much loved!


	5. Eastern Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chen Yao's favourite things were the color yellow, the stories about Amestris his parents told him, and Uncle Al. To his delight, Resembool managed to gather all of these under the same roof, and that was Uncle Ed's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellow is for happy people and cowards. It is both a warm colour that reminds of the sunshine and one that is associated with fear or jealousy. It has quite a conflict symbolism in literature and art.

_ AN: Yellow is for happy people and cowards. It is both a warm colour that reminds of the sunshine and one that is associated with fear or jealousy. It has quite a conflict symbolism in literature and art. _

Chen was enjoying swaying his feet in the warm breeze, feeling his hair caressed by the wind and his eyes feeding on the foreign Amestrian landscape. 

This was his fourth time in Amestris. The first two times he visited were when he was a baby- at his uncle’s wedding and then with his dad for business affairs. The third time was less than an year ago, to witness the birth of his cousin, Trisha. That was the one visit he remembered best, and he was fond of the memory. 

Coming back here now, he made a decision-Amestris was a nice place. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why, but he liked it here. Maybe it had something to do with the citizen’s hair color, he pondered. After all, yellow  _ was _ his favourite colour.

“Uncle Al?” he broke the silence with a whisper, turning to face his beloved uncle. The two of them were now in charge of riding the horses, changing the shift with his parents as to let them rest in the carriage. He hoped he had been silent enough not to wake up aunt Mei, who was sleeping with Trisha inside.

“What is it?” His uncle faced him, smiling. Chen examined his face carefully, engraving the image of the smile in his brain. People in the Court didn’t smile much, so it was rare to witness such an exhibit. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me more about Amestris,” the boy inquired, raising his eyes up to the crystal blue sky. 

Ever since he was little, his dad had been telling him stories about foreign places and neighbouring countries. But the story about Amestris were Chen’s favourites-and his father’s too. Mom also joined the story nights, correcting the happenings his dad talked about so they’d be as close to the truth as possible. That was also when Chen noticed that his father had a gift for making stories more appealing through what his mother referred to as “bufling”. The meaning of the word was still unclear to him.

“A story, huh?” Al asked, following Chen’s eyes to the bird he was watching. He heard his uncle humm before he exclaimed happily, “I don’t think you’ve heard the story of how we met your father?”

The Xingese boy turned towards him and shook his head energetically. His uncle chuckled softly at the boy’s excitement and Chen felt himself redden with embarrassment. “Such behaviour is not befitting of a Prince!” he hear his mother’s reprimanding voice in his head.

“Well then… It happened about eleven… Or maybe twelve years ago,” Uncle Al started, and Chen found himself hungrily absorbing every word that came out of the older man’s mouth, as if they hold life in themselves. 

He rarely ever got to hear stories about his parents in their younger days, mostly because the Imperial Advisors weren’t very fond of the Emperor- except for uncle Wang or aunt Chao. Neither were his caretakers, but the feeling was reciprocated. Chen took after his father when it came to taste in people.

When he once confessed these hidden thoughts to his father, he ruffled his hair dotingly. “That’s because we grew you up not to look down on anyone. And you should be proud of that.”

What he heard instead was “gossip”-as his mother once explained. ‘He married his guard?!’ ‘He abolished the 50 clans! That’s outrageous!’ ‘How dare he fraternize with Amestrians?!’ Every time he’d shyly ask his nanny what they were talking about, she’d look around scared and make a subtle sign for him to shut up, later telling him not to lend an ear to what everyone had to say. 

When he asked his parents, his dad usually laughed it off and his mom told him that he’ll understand soon enough. He did have a hunch that his father was quite the unusual leader- all the guards would throw him disrespectful looks when Chan called him ‘dad’ instead of ‘Your Majesty’.

“You shouldn’t tone yourself down to fit in, Chen,” he used to tell him. “You need to make the others accept you for who you are.” These were the words he treasured the most and that would always echo in the back of his mind whenever he was in a pinch.

Looking at his uncle and the other amestrians Chen had met, he couldn’t understand what was so bad about them to make the guards diss them- he didn’t exactly understand the world fraternization either, but he feared asking. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. 

He was sure that most Xingese hadn’t even seen the blond hair of an Amestrian in their whole lives and couldn’t appreciate the beauty of yellow. If only they could see what a wise man Uncle Al was! How calm and gentle he was, and the way he told his stories… 

For the following half an hour, Chen listened to how his father was rescued by Edward’s pockets. He had met Uncle Ed at Trisha’s birth already and realised that he loved Uncle Al very much. He heard how his dad almost died out of hunger, a feat he always heard repeating in his mother’s corrections. Over time, it had grown a custom for him and his mom to tease him for his appetite.

“Does that mean Uncle Ed will have lots of food for dad?” he asked, hoping for a positive answer. Chen took after his father in the hunger departament, as well.

“He does!” Al answered with a soft smile, ruffling his hair. No one in the whole Imperial Court touched the Prince, but Uncle Al simply seemed to know what he needed, without ever being unpleasant or entering what his nanny called ‘personal space’ and which was seemingly very important.

Maybe that was also an Amestrian trait, Chen thought. During his father’s business trips, he realised that the blondes were much more open. They even greeted each other by touching hands! Such gestures were unheard of in Xing, unless two people were  _ very _ close.

He touched his head where the warm hand had been and felt heat rushing to his cheeks. It felt  _ delightful _ , to use an Amestrian word.

Uncle Al went on with his story, about how his brother had fought with Lan Fan, to which Chen responded with an uncharacteristic interjection and pried into the kind of moves he used. Regretfully, Al didn’t know the details, but he promised that Ed would answer all the questions.

Chen felt satisfied with the story. He could picture his parents behaving like that. His mother throwing herself in danger’s path for his dad? Absolutely. His father fainting of starvation? Positive. Maybe that was the reason why he enjoyed his Uncle’s stories so much and took advantage of every free moment the man had to hear more about his parents. Besides, they were entertaining.

Actually, being a prince was quite boring. Cheng had to learn history, politics and geography, but he felt he was never learning the essential. He could recite the Xingese hymn and find any town on the map, but that wasn’t the most important quality for a leader, he thought. 

Of course he had no one to share these worries with. All he could do was be a brilliant student to make his dad proud. And yet, he found himself yearning for that one particular asset a leader needed that he couldn’t yet pinpoint, but that he saw in his father and in Uncle Al, too.

The little boy looked around himself, admiring the beautiful fields and fruitful trees, seeing the blonde people wipe sweat away from their foreheads. They were working even under the cruel sun. There was something different about them, too. 

Chen remembered visiting Xing once in disguise with his father. The two of them had put on peasant clothes and left the palace unnoticed, while mom declared the two of them had came down with a terrible cold and were not to be disturbed. That was the first time Chen was out of the castle and into the real word.

What he saw was still engraved in his memory. The further they travelled from the castle, the more misery people suffered from, and yet the happier they were. While in the palace grounds Chen was met with frowns, ‘don’t’s and ‘must’s, the outside meant dirt, sweat and smiles.

He was taken aback when some kids asked him to join them in their games and when his dad approved, he shyly joined them. He was dragged away in a court filled with rough sand where the children were playing a game called ‘hide and seek’. They were surprised when Chen inquired about the rules, but they answered anyway. He soon found himself searching for hiding places, forming alliances as to distract the attention of the person being  _ it  _ and running around the place. 

Somewhere in the middle of this, Chen found himself chuckling.

Meanwhile, his father was working in the torrid warmth of the sun, asking the townspeople about certain plants and remembering their names to then ask the herbalist for more efficient ways to harvest those. Emperor Ling wanted to meet his people and he wanted to be able to improve himself based on their words. After all, a king doesn’t exist without his people, as his mom would always remind him.

“Chen,” his father once told him, “always open your eyes widely and lend an year to those around you. Wisdom comes from the hungriest mouth.”

Chen hadn’t understood much back then, but seeing the children and the kind mothers offering him and his father food despite not knowing who they were, he somehow grasped the idea. 

After a day like that, Chen would return home and be motivated to learn history, geography and politics so that he could one day use the knowledge to make those who fed him smile in return and live in better conditions.

That was the country he had to rule one day.

Visiting Amestris, he didn’t have to disguise himself to talk to people and he was greeted warmly, even if no one knew he was a prince. Everyone smiled, too- even people that had power like uncle Al.

“Uncle Al,” the boy called out to him once again, after the story was over and silence had enveloped them. “What do you think about Xing?”

Al smiled as if remembering something, but the Xingese prince couldn’t tell what. The hint in his eyes vanished quickly.

“I think it’s a country you can learn a lot from.” 

“But uncle Al, isn’t Amestris the same then?” He let his eyes linger on people working here. They weren’t wearing the grey cloths of Xingese, the dull depressing color instead replaced by bright red, green, white or yellow. Al followed his gaze.

“You may think so now.” His voice held hidden bitterness. He feared his uncle wouldn’t continue, but he did eventually. “Things have calmed down quite a bit now. But before you were born, Amestris was a tough place to live in.”

That was the first time Chen had heard of such a thing. In his politics lessons, he had learned that Amestris was a good trading partner and was under a democratic reign, with the power divided between the citizens and the military. He shared that piece of information with the Amestrian.

“Indeed, it is now, thanks to Führer Mustang’s changes. But before him, Amestris was a country ruled only by the Führer, who had absolute power and started wars with almost all of our neighbours. We were born in those times and… had to overcome them. Just because you see happy people here now doesn’t mean they are all like that. We have our fair share of criminals, thieves and untrustworthy political figures.”

Chen’s worry must have been written all over his face, because Al continued, “But we’re working to change that. And that’s what Li-your father is doing as well.” He turned to flash the little boy one of his refreshing simpers before focusing on the road.

This time, Chen let the quiet linger between them. Was there any way at all to make Xing the place he dreamed of- a place where all people could smile and where he could protect them?Or was it all just a dream?

He glanced his father sleeping in the carriage, resting his head on top of his mother’s. The reality of the responsibility on his dad’s shoulders downed on him, as it had a few times before, and he felt his shoulders slump. His dad had already made major changes in the system, from what he managed to gather. None of the teachers ever explained that to him, so Chen had to research on his own.

Apparently, before his dad became the Emperor, there was a custom of the Emperor choosing a concubine in each of the 50 clans and having 50 children who would later compete for the throne. Chen knew that his mother was not part of these clans, and he also pieced together that her marriage with the Emperor was regarded with high skepticism and reticence.

Him knowing of these changes was something he kept a secret, though. Knowing that his dad had went against the rules was somewhat reassuring. He knew that his dad loved Xing and only wanted the best for his country, and he respected him greatly for that.

The rest of the ride, Chen remained deep in thought, swaying his feet in tandem with his thoughts as he tried to piece together a past hidden from him. His focused state didn’t allow him to notice Al’s concerned look. He did, however, hear his slight chuckle and questioned him with wide eyes.

“You know, Chen, sometimes, the simple fact that you are asking yourselves questions is good enough.” Uncle Al explained, obviously able to read the cause of his concern. How could that be any good when he didn’t have answers nor prospects of finding them?

“Answers come naturally to those who seek. It’s like an unwritten law,” he assured the little kid with a loving gaze. That set him at ease, even if it didn’t completely lift the worries off his shoulders.

Soon enough, they made it to their destination. The wind here was warmer and the sun was now exactly above their heads, 

“This,” Al now broke the silence, gesturing to everything around him, “is Resembool.” He looked around fondly.

The beautiful country landscape, the humming of people working and the friendly greetings directed in Uncle Al’s way overwhelmed the little boy with the image of perfection he associated Amestris with. He almost wanted to get down from his horse and run around, but he suppressed his desire.

This was different from the buzzling cities of Amestris he’d seen up to now, different from the lonely paths and golden fields. This was a small town where people knew each other. The place felt connected like a web, he could feel it even without needing to sense the  _ qi  _ around himself.

“I grew up here,” Al proudly declared.

“Al?” A drowsy voice came from the carriage and Aunt Mei’s black hair fluttered in the wind as she got her head out the window.

“We’re almost there!” Al announced her. “How did you sleep?” The rest of the conversation was just background noise to Chen’s new arisen anxiety.

He had heard there would be other kids there too, but he didn’t know if he could get along with them. Sure, there were Yuriy and Sarah, his distant cousins, that he had met once before, but he hadn’t spent much time with them back at Trisha’s birth. Would they… Like him?

He remembered that he didn’t have to tone himself done and shook his head firmly, trying to gain confidence.

The carriage stopped all at once and Uncle Al yelled something in Amestrian. “Brother!”

Chen was enveloped by panic. They were there and he had no plan what so ever. He wasn’t prepared for this!

“AL!!!!” Uncle Ed screamed back, running towards his brother like a kid and hugging him just as uncle Al got down from his horse. Chen stole a glance at the courtyard, where his two cousins were playing with a black haired girl and two other adults-a man with raven hair and his back turned to them and a blonde woman that noticed their arrival and started making her way towards them.

Chen looked back to carriage in frantic search of his parents. He was ashamed of himself. He had to make things right on his own! He whipped his head around and saw Aunt Winry getting out of the house, so he decided to go greet her.

“Hey Chen!” She greeted him in Xingese, bowing to his level and patting his head. He felt a wave of gratefulness wash over him as he started talking to her in an even voice.

“Winry, hello.” A calm woman’s voice that he recognized as his mother’s came from next to him, and his Aunt turned towards her and got up, hugging her.

“Lan Fan! How’s your arm?”

Chen ignored the rest of the conversation, deciding to search for new company and let them catch up. He knew how fond of Aunt Winry his mother was.

Next to the carriage, the blonde woman was talking to Aunt Mei and she was most likely referring to Trisha, since her eyes were glued on the baby. Ed and Al were still talking, and his dad joined them just as Uncle Ed was asking, “Where’s that hungry king?”

“Missing me?” His father responded.

As Ed was nagging him, his father was inspecting the surroundings. He saw Chen alone and silently made a sign for the boy to join him. Chen was just about to approach them when he felt his back getting much heavier and his breath catching up in his throat. He turned around only to see Yuriy, his arm thrown around Chen’s neck.

“Chen! Do you want to play with us?”

The prince was stunned. He had barely arrived, and here was his cousin not even saying ‘hi’ but wanting him to play. This would have been considered impolite in Xing, but for whatever reason, Chen felt indescribably happy.

“Yuriy, that’s not how you behave with princes!” Uncle Ed said in a sarcastic tone.

“No no, I want to play!” Chen hurriedly answered, afraid that the invitation would be retracted.

“You’re a prince?” A girly voice came from behind them and the boys turned. Chen recognised the black-haired girl, who, he had to admit, was really pretty from up close. “That’s so cool!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Hey, Nel! Aren’t I cool too?” Yuriy asked frantically, letting go of Chen’s neck and pointing to himself.

“You are, Yu-chan!” she giggled. 

Chen felt this was going too quickly for him to grasp the situation. Out of nowhere, a hand appeared under his nose.

“I’m Penelope Mustang,” the girl introduced herself, smiling. 

The boy shook her hand and muttered,“Chen Yao, pleased to meet you.”

Only a few moments later did the name Mustang register and did the boy realise that was the name of Amestris’ Führer. By this point however, he was already being dragged into the game he didn’t even know the name of, he was witnessing Yuriy argue with the black-haired man that accused him of letting him play alone, and he had to register the small tug on his shirt from his cousin Sarah.

Feeling like everything was way too fast, Aut Winry’s voice came as a lifesaver.

“Everyone, let’s have lunch!” she called.

“Yeeey!” All the kids exclaimed as they raced to the house, leaving him bewildered in the middle of the garden, confused as to what he was supposed to do. On his way, Yuriy managed to convey his plans to Chen.

“Let’s play after lunch, okay?” 

On the way inside, he reunited with his exhausted family. He himself felt light-headed after the unexpectedly warm welcome. His dad caught him and raised him on his shoulders as he sometimes did when he wanted to talk with his son in private.

“So Chen, welcome to the Elrics’!” his dad wished him and smiled. “Doesn’t it smell good?” his stomach grumbling accordingly.

“Ling!” His mother said in a tone that wanted to be annoyed but only managed to be amused by his dad’s antics. She joined them by his dad’s side, her beautiful face finally not hidden by a mask. His father wasn’t wearing a mask either. He usually was at work, so that his mom wouldn’t feel lonely. He didn’t even need to paint his face- he just hid whatever he was feeling. But now, he was laughing and he could be read much like an open book, if Chen recalled the expression correctly.

“Hey Chen.” His father looked at him through his locks of dark hair. The boy bowed until his head was exactly in front of his father, although upside-down. “Have fun!” He wished his son, pinching his nose. The child answered with a wide smile, nodding.

He got straight up again and locked eyes with his mom as well. She graced him with a rare but genuine smile and Chen felt content, inhaling deeply. Maybe it was childish, but the eastern breeze had the distinct perfume of friendship.

They entered the house and he left the prince and the questions at the door: he had a week to be a child with the yellow-headed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter:) With chapter 5, all parties are finally assembled under the same roof and the fun can start!  
> I hope you liked Chen Yao. He was quite the fun OC to come up with, because I imagine he has a very charged childhood, being a Prince and all. Hopefully I didn't mess up his characterisation!  
> As always, kudos and comments are much loved! Let me know what you guys think!


	6. Cooking a Small Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Food unites us all" may be Ling's motto, but Mei has to agree it's full of truth and wisdom.  
> People best share stories on a full stomach, aka the "time to tell embarassing stories about our children" time for our much beloved characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Governing a great nation is like cooking a small fish - too much handling will spoil it." (Lao-tzu, Chinese philosopher).  
> As promised, this chapter is where the fun starts. From now on, the chapters will be more of a collection of stories said around the table. Taken from my own experience with relatives when my parents loved to embarrass me.  
> But enoygh talking, on to the chapter!

“Lunch smells great, Winry!” Ling commented as soon as he got inside. Mei wanted to argue that, in fact, lunch couldn’t even be smelled from the entrance, but she bit her tongue when she realised that her brother might just have been hungry enough to unlock this new skill.

She herself was pretty exhausted and was plenty grateful when Winry pointed to the rocking bed she had prepared for Trisha and even offered to look after the adorable girl. Mei let the child in her care and washed her hands before returning to the kitchen to offer Edward a helping hand. He was now in charge of filling the table with the products of his hard work- as he insisted on highlighting quite a number of times since their arrival.

“Thanks, but shouldn’t you be resting?” he asked her, trying to mask a concerned look.

She shook her head. “No, I sat all day, I need to exercise a bit.”

“Suit yourself.” Her brother-in-law answered, pushing the lightest bowl towards her. Mei chewed on a simper that bloomed in response to his antics.

She dug her way through the labyrinth of hungry mouths, which was quite the challenge, given how Ling was one of them. She had to give Lan a meaningful look when she dared put the bowl down, but her friend already knew. She shot her husband a rigid look that kept him from the aperitifs like an iron leash.

Mei noticed how his body tensed each time someone almost sat before remembering they had one more thing to do- wash their hands, bring a bowl, change their clothes, get off the apron. She was pretty sure he cursed his appetite and keen nose in times like these.

Of course Ed couldn’t have possibly missed that and still pass on the opportunity to mess with Ling. And so, once everyone was sitting, he was the only one still fidgeting. Too bad he was so terrible at concealing his feelings, Mei thought, stifling a laugh at his characteristic beam.

“Ed,” Winry’s cautioning voice warned him. He simply chortled at her like he had no worries in the world.

“I just have this _tiny_ _little_ thing to take care of!” he assured her,stressing the diminutives with an ever-growing grin, the likes of which Mei was sure would have caused anyone else muscular pain. His own son eyed him suspiciously, while, if Ling’s eyes could have thrown daggers, Ed would have been long in need of new automail.

“If it’s  _ soooo tiny _ ,” Winry mocked him, “you can surely take care of it later.” She pursed her lips as if saying, “This is your last warning”. 

Ed caught her subtle forewarning and was eventually persuaded to sit down when Yuriy also commented, “Dad, just sit already! Chen’s also hungry!” 

The prince blushed slightly and dared peek at his mother, afraid she’d scold him for such behaviour. Instead, he was met with a fond look of approval. Well, even Lan needed to take holidays, and Mei knew just how much she had been looking forward to this one.

Ed sat down between Winry and Al with a heavy sigh. Mei could swear she heard him grumbling, “Just because I don’t want to have the prince faint under my roof.” Alphonse’s this-is-my-brother smile only served to confirm her thoughts.Mei kept in a small sigh. Edward seem to bring the most expressive reactions out of all of them.

“So, Al, how’s little Trisha?” Edward changed the subject after they all dag in, with Ling saying the quickest prayer Mei had ever heard and diving right into the bowl he’d been eyeing all along. It was like he had devised a whole attack plan while the others were fidgeting and he was now losing not even a split second to carry it out.

Trisha was resting in Al’s arms, which made Mei unbelievably grateful- she loved her daughter more than anything, but right now, she needed to fuel up. She followed Chen’s attack on the food, choosing to observe the scene quietly instead of butting in-at least as long as she fueled up.

“She’s amazing!” Alphonse answered, petting the sleeping baby, careful not to wake her up. He didn’t want to put her down just yet. He wanted to bring her in the middle of the family, to make her part of the discussion. 

Winry did insist on letting her rest in the rocking bed she had specially prepared, but he firmly believed her to like his arms much more. While it may have shocked Winry, it was nothing new to Mei. Even at home, he wanted to hold her close and would sometimes take her out of her bed while she was sleeping just to hug her. The Xingese couldn’t blame him- after spending so much time in a suit of armor, he was bound to miss human contact. However, she had to argue that letting her only sleep in his arms was bound to ruin her back, which finally convinced Al to let her rest like a normal human in a bed. That didn’t stop him from always planting kisses on her forehead and carrasing her dark locks while she was resting, though.

Those were signs of affection he used with his wife as well, always paying attention to her needs and hugging her when he felt like she needed it. He was accurate enough in reading her before, but after he learned how to sense her  _ qi  _ and tuned himself to it, he was all-right freakish with his timing for cuddling, and also knew when to not enter her personal space. 

That was probably what made Al so popular with the Easterns, too, and the key to his integration into the pretentious Imperial Court. A force to be reckoned with if he wasn’t on your side, Mei contemplated.

“She’s always so happy and lively!” he continued with sparkling eyes. His wife admired him for his capacity of keeping a child’s spirit even as he grew in age. She listened to him launching in a discussion over how cute Trisha was and the things she learned, like saying ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. 

“Oh, that’s adorable!” Winry exclaimed.

“So her first word was ‘mom’, huh?” Ed laughed, slapping his brother’s shoulder friendly.

“Because her father was always there, so she needn’t call him,” Mei observed. 

Al threw her a confused look. “I don’t even know if that was a compliment,” he admitted, making even Mustang chuckle.

“Well, Yuriy’s first word was also mom, but only because he was really hungry when he called her,” Edward laughed back. 

Yuriy stopped with the bite before his mouth and eyed his dad dangerously.

“I was little!” he argued, stealing glances at the other children to see their reactions.

“No worries, Yuriy. I think your dad’s first word was something Alchemy-related anyway,” his mom laughed, fully aware that she was indirectly starting a war with her husband.

“It was- !” Ed started arguing, but stopped mid-sentence, “Actually, I don’t know my first word.” His eyes glinted with sorrow, but he changed gears and quickly stab back, “And you’re one to talk, Automail-freak!” He raised his fork towards her. “Were you born with a wrench in your hand or something?”

“Careful! This freak is the only one who can make you walk!” She pointed to his foot, shutting him up victoriously. Ed pouted, but shut up-possibly mulling over his next attack in this seemingly never-ending, always-endearing game he and Winry played ever since they were able to talk.

“I actually think you two only started talking to fight each other,” Mustang voiced his theory. Mei remembered he and Ed were in another full-out war of snarky comments, one that had also lasted ever since they met. She wondered if anyone aside from Alphonse was on good terms with him.

“Too bad I hadn’t met you earlier, or I would have been the genius speaking at six months!” Edward proudly answered. Mei sometimes wondered if he read books on how to give snarky comebacks or something-his reaction speed was inhuman.

“Brother!” Al finally stopped the outrage, “Trisha’s sleeping, would you keep it down?”

“Right. Sorry, Al!” 

Ed looked genuinely apologetic, and actually toned down a level. Yes, a force to be reckoned with indeed.

“Sarah’s first word was…” Winry tried getting the conversation back on track.

“Stawbelly!” the little one completed, raising her fork in achievement.

“Strawberry” Yuriy corrected his sister, causing her to turn to him with a mad face.

“That’s what I said!” she argued, trying to turn the tide in her favour.

“Why strawberry?” Lan asked.

“We were all shopping,” Winry launched in what announced itself as a long story, “when we passed the stand of our usual shopper. He had just brought strawberries, the first fresh Resembool batch of the year. I always used to put strawberries in Sarah’s smoothies, since I knew she enjoyed them. As we were chit-chatting with the shopper, Sarah suddenly started making frantic signs from Ed’s arms and started yelling, ‘stawbeyyy!’”

“I almost dropped her out of shock!” Edward admitted, talking over his children’s bickering, as they were still arguing over who-knows-what. He seemed to have gotten used to speaking over their fights.

“What was my first word?” Penelope asked, interrupting the siblings’ dispute and turning to her parents with sparkling eyes.

Her father looked dejected when her mother answered, “It was  _ story _ , sweety.”

“Story?” the black-haired girl asked, incredulously.

“Yeah. We used to tell you a story each night, either me or your dad.Then one night, an unplanned meeting was convocated, so we had to let you with the nanny. As soon as we closed the door behind us, you wobbled up to me and started tugging on my coat angrily, demanding, “Story, stoooryyy!” and pointing to the clock on the wall. Indeed, it was past the usual story time. We couldn’t even eat until we read you a story!” Riza explained. 

Her daughter laughed sheepishly, “Well your stories are the best!”

“As I am well aware.” Her father answered this time, laughing quietly.

“I think Chen’s first words were ‘let go’, right?” Ling checked with his wife. She nodded slowly.

“Why?” Chen asked, surprised.

“You were around a year old and you were trying to sneak into the throne room, while there was a meeting hold there. Imagine the courtesans’ surprise when a one year old suddenly peeks through the mahogany doors on a crown meeting. Your mother hurried to fetch you and return you to your nanny. When she wanted to hand you over, you told your nanny to ‘Let go’ and struggled to get back to your mom. You ended up attending the rest of the meeting happily in Lan’s arms.”

“Oh,” the boy chuckled. “Sorry for the inconvenience,” he bowed, but apologetic was the last thing he was.

“How did you all react when you heard your children talk?” Al inquired out of curiosity.

“I was so tired I thought I was dreaming, until Nel started violently tugging my pants,” Riza confessed.

“Yeah, it took me a few moments to realise she was talking. At first I was like: Nel’s right, we’re late… And then I saw Riza’s bewildered look and realised my daughter was talking, which wasn’t exactly normal.”

“I had a real hard time playing the part of the outraged bodyguard instead of the happy mother,” Lan confessed with an almost unnoticeable smirk. “You should have seen the look on the advisors’ faces, they were  _ flabbergasted _ !” She used the Amestrian word with satisfaction.

“You had it easy, Lan! You had your mask to cover you up! I was trying really hard not to scream, ‘My son is talkiiiiing!’ Later that night, I told the cooks to prepare a feast.” Ling remembered.

“Don’t you always tell them that?” Ed commented, but Ling pretended not to have heard a word.

Mei recalled her own reaction. When her daughter had called her name, she was taking a bath. At first, she thought she was imagining it, but as the voice seemed to come closer and closer, she turned off the shower to check her temperature. 

But then she felt two  _ qi _ s at the door of the bathroom. Afraid something bad had happened, she grabbed a towel and ran out of the bathtub, hair still wet and feet almost slipping on the floor.

“What is it?” she asked scared at the sight of Al holding Trisha at the bathroom door. The beam splitting his face in two wasn’t exactly reassuring. She sometimes feared that spending 17 years with his brother affected him.

“Mama!” the baby said again, raising her hands to her mother with a happy giggle. Unable to believe her ears, Mei forced her eyes shut before opening them again, staring at her daughter. The little one repeated impatiently, “Mama!”

She stretched her arms out to her, linking her hand with her tiny one and answering, “Yes?”

“Mama!” the baby said victoriously, touching her still-wet face. She locked eyes with Al, who was still smiling.

“She… talked,” Mei said, still not comprehending the situation. Her brain was just refusing to process the information. Only when Alphonse nodded was she sure she wasn’t hearing things.

“Yeah, she suddenly called for you while I was playing with her and we just had to tell you.” 

Mei matched her husband’s happy expression, feeling like the smile on her lips was larger than her face. She locked her eyes on her daughter’s amber ones. “Mama!”

“I’m your mama.” It was probably something stupid to say, but it was the first thing that came to mind. 

She was unbelievably happy. 

Well then again, she was always happy with her family next to her.

“Oh, but when did she start walking?” Ed asked after glowered at Ling, who kept ignoring him.

“That was when she was about six months old, I think.” Al looked at Mei for confirmation. “We were playing with her in the living room, rolling a ball from one to another and she was following it. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks and sat down, looking around quite angrily, as if something wasn’t as she wanted it to be.”

“At first, I thought she was about to cry,” Mei interrupted, figuring this was her queue to tell the story. She had eaten her fill and felt energized enough to join the others- what better time than when they were talking about Trisha?

“But then, she suddenly stood up and took two wobbly steps towards the ball. She almost fell over, but she found her balance by leaning against the sofa and continued, very slowly, to make it to the ball.”

And so it happened. She was still small and chubby, but very perseverant. At only ten months, she wanted everything to go her way. And it was because of that that she started walking, annoyed at not being able to carry the ball when crawling. 

They were both left speechless, of course, but that didn’t stop Trisha from looking highly proud of herself when she reached her father, and him from hugging her and clapping loudly. Mei clapped too, astonished by her little girl. With a kid, every day felt like...

“Every day feels like a miracle!” Alphonse continued her line of thought.

Riza interrupted with a giggle.

“Hawke… I mean, Riza-san?” Al questioned, turning towards the woman at the other corner of the table. Ed also stopped from talking about his own children and how they were just as adorable to gawk at the former officer.

“Sorry,” she said after she finished chewing on her food. “It’s just that you remind me of Roy when Nel was born.”

Winry chuckled at the remark and Ed felt a smug grin bloom on his face. He raised his eyebrows at Mustang, who responded with an unimpressed expression.

“I see nothing bad with a father loving his beautiful daughter and pampering her a little,” he answered with a stoic face, but that all melted away when Penelope gave him one of her charming smiles- definitely inherited from her father. 

Mei wanted to grin at how shy Mustang was being, but she held back from her impulse, knowing someone would do the job better than her.

“Of course not.” Ed continued grinning. He was definitely classes above her in teasing, Mei had to give him that much. 

Mustang eyed him with a pretty unfriendly look. “Look here, Fullmetal. Just because we are in your house and your wife cooks great doesn’t mean I can’t fight you.” 

Winry was preparing to shift the topic and avoid the war, but another female at the table was quicker to act.

“But dad!” Penelope intervened between the two men who were almost at each other’s throats. Sitting across the table didn’t seem to play any role in their confrontation, neither did the fact that Ed was alchemy-loss and Roy was The Flame Alchemist. 

They snapped their heads around to look at the girl who was now standing up. “You can’t fight! Yu-chan is my best friend, so you also have to get along! You too, Uncle Ed!” she said, the most adorable pout adorning her mouth and a finger pointed at her ‘uncle’.

The table went silent, except for Ling’s chewing, which also died down once he became aware of everyone’s silence. Winry decided to sit this round out after exchanging a look with her blonde friend and to instead watch the little girl give the two grown-ups a lesson. 

Next to Nel, who was now creasing her blouse in anger, hands propped on her hips, Yuriy was struggling not to choke on his food. 

The two fathers made an effort to unglue their eyes from the Fuhrer’s daughter and look at each other.

“Colonel, I think we have to reconsider our approach,” Ed finally broke the silence in an even tone, his golden eyes transmitting more than his voice. He imitated Roy’s usual gesture by linking his hands beneath his chin and frowning.

“Indeed,” the man cautiously nodded, sitting down. If he noticed the mocking gesture, he made a great show of ignoring it. Who said Mustang wasn’t good at trading obviously had no eyes, for the man could even strike a deal with Edward Elric.

He turned to his daughter for a second and assured himself of how much she meant what she had said. There was no ounce of hesitation in those fierce eyes- inherited from her mother, no doubt. 

“We need a new battle plan,” he finally sighed, turning to his discussion partner. “Fullmetal, how much do you have saved up?”

Mei blinked blankly at his line.What did money have to do with anything? She hoped to God they weren’t talking about politics on their holiday, or she’d be forced to give them a piece of her mind.

“About enough to pay my part,” Edward answered, reciprocating Roy’s look. Penelope was getting confused as well, shifting her gaze from one man to the other.

“I may be able to pay the dress, after all,” Roy sighed. Ed gave him a thumbs up, under the eyes of all the dumbfounded people at the table. Mei felt the  _ qi  _ of the two men who were plotting and she smiled to herself- the kept saying they went along like a cat and a dog, but their  _ qi  _ was flowing into each other in perfect sync. That didn’t help her understand their plan, but a look at the children helped her clear it out. 

Next to the bewildered Nel, Yuriy seemed to be the only one at the table apart from the adults who caught onto what was happening. In response, he sneaked up behind his father and muffled his voice as he wanted to say more by stuffing a spring roll in his mouth.

“That’s enough, Ed!” Winry rejoined the game, as Edward leaned against his chair and chewed on his spring roll.

“Sorry buddy, we’ll stop.” Ed assured his son after he swallowed, then he bent down and whispered something in his ear. Mei couldn’t hear exactly what he said, but Yuriy high fived his father and reflected his grin. 

Okay, so maybe Ed wasn’t the only one who could stretch his cheeks to that extent. Was it an Elric thing? Was Trisha also going to be able to do it?

“I’m starting to worry about what they may be plotting,” Roy admitted to his wife. 

Nel remained standing until Yuriy turned back to his place and whispered something that seemed to clear her confusion and the meal was restarted, with vigorous chewing sounds from all around the table. 

Mei felt Al shift in her chair and gave him a smile. He was starting to feel at home again.

“These spring rolls are amazing, Winry!” Ed exclaimed after licking his lips and stretching over the table to stuff his cheeks with more. “When did you even make them?” he asked with his mouth full.

“Actually, Lan Fan brought those,” the woman answered, nodding in thanks at the Xingese. 

Lan made a gesture that read, “This was nothing” and stabbed the meat in front of her with the fork.

“I knew it!” Ed said happily, “Lan Fan is indeed the only decent eater in the Yao clan.” 

This time, Ling looked up from the food just to say, “Well yeah, I don’t think the cooks could take one more of me.” He rubbed the back of his neck in an apologetic manner, but his face conveyed the complete opposite.

Mei was pretty sure she heard Ed mumble a “Well neither could we”, but his wife and brother’s admonishing looks kept him from voicing his opinion aloud. It was reassuring to know at least someone could keep his foul mouth in check.

“Talking about food!” Chen spoke up, startling his aunt. He was usually reserved and liked to observe quietly. However, it looked like his wavelength was now finely tuned to the Elrics’. ‘That explains a lot’ she smiled to herself. Then again, almost everyone was caught up in their pace, as soon as they met them. Even herself.

“Uncle Al told me about how you met dad!” He sounded excited and eager to learn more, with his sparkling dark eyes practically asking for details. Ling let his fork down and grinned.

“Food unites us all!”

The occupants of the table broke into an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

“I hope that’s not your motto when ruling Xing, too,” Roy laughed.

“Yeah, you King. That meal made my pockets lighter and it cost me a good spar with Lan Fan,” Ed completed in a semi-grumpy voice. 

Lan Fan nodded with what seemed the shadow of a smile.

“Really? And who won?” Yuriy slammed his hands against the table in excitement, his golden eyes staring at the other golden pair across from him. Mei could swear his nose grew longer when Ed pointed the thumb to himself.

“Your father did.” 

Yuriy whistled appreciatively and Nel clapped her hands together next to him in awe. “But to Lan’s credit, she did manage to break my arm.” 

Ed stole a glance at a now calm Winry, though back then, she would be fuming about how he yet again had destroyed her masterpiece. Mei had later come to learn that angering Winry was the equivalent of having a deathwish.

“Actually, you broke it yourself, Edward,” Lan Fan updated his memories. “I merely stabbed it.” She seemed content with correcting the error, living in the bliss that oblivion is and not realising that she may have just lit the fire under the bomb. 

Mei’s eyes shifted to the hosts, while Al’s checked hers and offered her a sheepish smile and the quick squeeze of a hand before placing it back on Trisha’s back.

“Oh, is that so?” Winry answered with forced calm. “Ed, why would you try pushing the blame on someone else?”

The man was lucky there was no wrench around, because her fake smile was crumbling. She seemed to struggle with an internal war before surrendering to whatever inner angel and resigning. “For real, you always came home in bits and pieces!” She sighed heavily, forcing another bite of salad in her mouth. “And you’ll sometimes even bring Al home in a box!”

“You did?” Mei interjected, flashing Al a disapproving look.

“Ah, only when Brother’s arm was broken and he couldn’t fix me,” he assured her, placing a hand on her leg. She brushed her fingers against it, happy that her husband was now finally inhabiting a body and was able to touch others like this.

“Your arm?” Nel asked, staring at Edward’s flesh arms and frowning her brow.

“That’s an old story,” her mother assured her with a look that also meant, ‘No more prying.’

“In pieces?” Yuriy also asked. The adults exchanged scared looks and realised that had been a fatal mistake.

“That’s… A story for another time.” Al tried to sound convincing. 

Mei pondered the best approach. Telling them was out of question. They were still children and after what Ed and Al had gone through, she understood their attempt to keep them in oblivion for as long as possible. As such, the only option was distracting them. But how?

A gasp interrupted the tense quiet moment.

“We might have a problem,” the oldest Elric let out, having all eyes turn on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! It was a lot of fun for me to write and I cracked up a bit through the edit, so I hope it brought a smile to your faces, too! Mei's perspective is kinda quiet, I know, but Mustang is next and he has no shortage of comments:)  
> Also, any idea what the problem Ed is talking about may be?  
> As always, kudos and comments are much beloved!


	7. Queen's Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roy Mustang comes up with a game that will bring about the death of his self-esteem. Also known as the "Embarrassment Games". I'm having the time of my life tesing the FMA characters and I'm not sorrry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Queen’s Gambit is probably the most popular gambit and although most gambits are said to be unsound against perfect play the queen’s gambit is said to be the exception.

“How could you possibly forget to put the chicken in the oven?!” Winry still yelled from the kitchen.

“I wanted to do it, but you said to do it later if it’s  _ sooo tiny _ !” he spitted the last words.

“That isn’t a minor thing, Ed, this is  _ huuuge _ !” she argued back, closing the door of the over forcefully. Well, she was the one who was going to repair it if it broke.

“Why did you buy a turkey, anyway?! We’re not having Thanksgiving!” her husband argued, totally besides the point.

“Don’t change the subject, Ed!” Winry caught his strategy and dodged.

“I said I was sorry, do you need me to bow before you or something?” Ed snapped back. 

From the looks of it, this wasn’t gonna end anytime soon, yet watching them was endearing. Of course, when it wasn’t threatening his capacity to hear, Roy corrected himself when the screeching voice of Edward rang in the kitchen.

“Good thing Mei went out with the children to play,” Riza noted, her face blessed by a small smile at the hosts’ antics. 

Roy nodded. Mei was smart and very quick ok the uptake. As soon as the diversion was created, she offered to take the kids out to play and launched a challenge of playing ‘hide-and -seek’ in teams, to distract their attention. Of course, it worked- they were thrilled. 

Roy fixed Al with a look that said more than words. The younger Elric took the congratulations humbly, with a simple nod.

“Well then,” Winry marched back into the living room with Ed in toe, his arms filled with fruit bowls. “Since we have no steak,” she paused only to shoot Edward another reproachful look, which he brilliantly ignored, “we will make do with fruit in the meantime.”

“That’s better, we’ll have time to get hungry,” Ling noted, being the first one to attack the grapes. Roy couldn’t tell whether he was being sincere or attempting to ease the pressure off the hosts. 

He guessed that ability to say one thing and let multiple meanings seed from it was what helped him in ruling Xing, something the man who spent his life in the military lacked. In his workfield, everything had to be concise and exact- double-meanings could kill, he knew it all to well.

“See, even the King of Eating says so!” Ed defended himself, though not in the friendliest tone.

“He’s just being polite,” Winry answered drily, falling back into her chair and sighing. “Oh well, we might as well keep ourselves company while the children let some steam out,” she finally compromised, allowing Ed to loose out a breath he was holding in.

“Well gentlemen, since the children are out, let’s allow ourselves to talk about more  _ advanced  _ stuff,” Roy suggested, making all the men turn their eyes to him. 

He enjoyed being the centre of their attention. Especially when they were being so wary of him, eyeing him suspiciously from head to toe. Roy grinned.

“We could,” he started, breathing in the tension of the room. It smelled like victory.

“We could tell embarrassing stories!” Roy eventually said in one breath. 

At first there was silence around the table, but then a fit of giggles erupted next to the raven-haired man, and then another one from the oblique eyes until everyone was laughing out loud.

He could have suggested anything else: politics, talking about their families or the weather. But all Roy wanted was to relax and have a good laugh, so what better way to do it then by telling embarrassing stories? Sure, it also helped that he could later use it as blackmail material.

“What’s so funny?” he innocently asked.

“Mr. Mustang, forgive me,” Al tried to say without choking on his laughs, which proved rather difficult, “but that’s something I thought brother would say,not you!”

“Hey!” Fullmetal objected, but he didn’t have enough power after laughing so loudly to be actually mad about it.

“Why not?” Roy answered, puzzled. “This makes the bonds between people stronger,” he declared in a stoic, firm voice, as if claiming a natural truth, such as “water freezes at 0 degrees Celsius” or “the sky is blue.” And it was indeed a natural truth- you feel closer to someone who knows your darkest secret, as Madam Christmas had taught him.

“Yeah sure. You keep using that excuse, I know you just want to have blackmail material on us,” Edward responded, his intuition as sharp as always.

“Don’t worry, Edward,” Riza calmly spoke up. “I have enough data to cover his side.” 

She met Roy’s terrified gaze with a smirk and mouthed the word  _ bet _ . ‘Darn’ Roy thought, realising that the game he engaged in might just be a lost battle. He was truly disappointed at himself for not having thought of that beforehand. Clearly, the feeling of being on holiday was clouding his judgement.

“L-let’s pose some rules to make this fair,” he tried minimizing the damage.

“I agree with you on that one,” Ed answered. Only fear could make the Elric agree with his Führer. The military head saw the source of his angst dangerously grinning and realised this may have been her long-awaited one-way ticket to revenge. He had gotten himself and Fullmetal in a very, very deep rabbit's hole and could now only fall further into it. Blonde women were terrifying after all.

“What, you scared now?” Alphonse teased in one of his rare outbursts. From Ed’s accusative look at Roy, the latter could guess he was being blamed of having corrupted the younger Elric. 

‘Anything for the good of the country!’ Mustang compromised, feeling that his martiri will be worth the pain in the long run.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you!” Ling said with what seemed calculated malice, leaning against his chair and rocking it. It looked like this game had awakened his awareness, since he let the food rest in its basket and focused on his new ‘toy’. 

Al threw him a questioning look which the man caught with grace.

“Just saying, you spent a lot of time in the castle. I might have a few juicy stories on you.” He smirked, obviously enjoying Al’s decomposed expression.

“If Al is out of the game, Lan Fan’s winning this thing,”  Ed said.

“Not so fast,” Al suddenly had a revelation. He put back on his sly face and purred, “I might have just the story on Lan Fan.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to him, then they darted towards her. Roy had to wonder just what kind of story he could possibly have. Lan Fan hid under the perfect mask, even now when she wasn’t a physical one.

“You sure about this one, Al?” Ed asked.

The East Administrator nodded confidently. It was kind of scary, Roy thought. So that’s how he made people pay taxes!

But it was even scarier when Roy caught Riza scribbling something in her notebook. She always carried one around her, along with a pen- “just in case” seemed to be her favourite line.

“What…”

“We seemed to have agreed on imposing some rules. As such, I thought rule number 1 should be that no-one gets to say stories about themselves, for obvious reasons. You seem to have realised that on your own though.”

‘More like they all have a bone to pick with someone else.’ Roy thought to himself. But something bigger was bothering him now.

“Riza. Since I came up with the rules idea, shouldn’t I be the one to…” he started arguing, only to be stopped by merely one little, short, goddamned word he had brought upon himself.

“Bet.”

Yes, he knew! He screwed up big time and lost a bet, no need to rub it in! Luckily, Roy had learnt to swallow his words long ago and he did the same this time. 

He knew it wasn’t just a bet for Riza. It was her way of teaching him to trust their daughter more.

“What bet?” Al asked, to which Riza pursed her lips to keep from laughing (oh, how he knew her techniques!)

“Don’t worry, Al. You’ll find out soon enough,” Winry assured him.

“The second rule,” Riza continued undisturbed, “would be that two people should not tell stories about each other.” She looked up, searching for objections. “Just to keep it interesting,” she explained with a smirk.

“Up to now, we have: Ling attacks Al; Al attacks Lan; I attack Roy and Winry attacks Edward.” She looked up from her notebook. “Is that correct? Would you like any changes made?”

The people around the table shook their heads. Lan Fa- Yao- he still couldn’t get used to that: Lan Fan rhymed and sounded just right- spoke, “I think I have a story on Winry.”

The ‘accused’ woman widened her eyes for a split second but then regained her calm.

“All’s fair in love and war, and this is war. Let’s see you, Lan!” she declared with fire in her eyes. The ninja-woman nodded, accepting her challenge.

Of course she wouldn’t attack her own husband and the person she had to keep safe. It was one of those rules that Riza seemed to disregard. Still, Lan wasn’t the type to launch herself in battles that couldn’t be won, so Roy was eager to see what awaited the automail mechanic.

“Then I’m taking Riza,” Ed grinned, to Roy’s disbelief. He fixed Fullmetal with a piercing look, to which he just shrugged.

“If I took Ling, you and Riza would have each other, which goes against the rules. Besides, I have a pretty good one on my boss,” he added confidently, with that expression Roy often got sick of because it only brought mischief. And  _ he  _ was the one who had to clear after Fullmetal’s mess.

He glanced at Riza, who was writing the new pair down. She seemed weirdly calm, so maybe Ed didn’t have much on her after all. She felt his stare and spoke nonchalantly.

“Oh no, he has a pretty good one on me, if it’s the one I’m thinking about. I’m just confident that mine is much better and will shortly make everyone forget about Edward’s.” Trust Riza to attack him with all her might. He wouldn’t have entrusted her with his life any other way

His eyes drifted to the notebook page and quirked an eyebrow.

“So I have Ling, huh?” He looked at the man, their gazes intersecting, and felt creases form on his forehead. What did he possibly have on him? He remembered his chess table and tried to imagine a winning move that wouldn’t possibly be turned against him later on. Chess…

“I think I got it!” he said with a winning smirk. Everyone turned to face Roy, whose forehead was now creased from smiling.

“Really?” Ed asked, obviously not buying it. “What could you possibly have on Xing’s Emperor?”

“More than you could imagine,” Roy said with a meaningful look, attracting Ling’s attention. 

Before the king could even defend himself, Riza concluded, “We’re going with round one as follows: Roy, then Ling, then Al, then Lan, then Winry, then Ed and I as the endgame. If we still have time, we’ll engage in round two. Now, are you all ready?” She looked up from her notes to the adults around her and smiling almost devilishly. They all gulped before nodding.

“Then, may the embarrassment games start!” Riza declared, gesturing for Roy to begin.

“It happened two years ago…” The Flame Alchemist started, bringing everyone to a quiet listening state.

“We were having an official meeting with Xing’s representatives. Amestris’ main office was in chaos- everyone was preparing for the great honor, as the king himself was about to visit us. No other king before had done that, though granted, in no other generation were the political and economical relationships of the countries so well-groomed. Even so, the reality remained: this was an exceptional visit.”

“Skip the exposition, Mustang! I want the juicy part!” Ed complained, receiving a “shh” from everyone at the table before Roy continued.

“As such, I had personally instructed everyone to go out and buy the best food in the city. My subordinates were looking at me funnily, but I had enough experience to know that offering the best food to foreign dignitaries,” and here he stopped purposefully, eyeing Ling, “is the best way to go about it.

“As such, Havoc almost broke his back carrying all sorts of delicacies that, frankly speaking, not even I got to test out.” He paused again and this time, Ling had the sense to make a small “i’m sorry” bow that Roy let slip by. 

“Anyway, the meeting proceeded. We were all gathered in the same room- me and the parliament, along with Ling and his dignitaries. As long as the affairs were being discussed, everyone focused on the tasks at hand, everyone worked hard and sweated over the best decisions to take. How to regulate the trades between the two countries, their external affairs and the way the image of the relationship was about to change in the eyes of the citizens, too.

“Oddly enough, the Emperor didn’t even as much as watch the food. He purposefully kept his vision field limited, only watching the documents and the people.”

Those around the table either fake-gasped or actually face-palmed. Delighted at the audience’s response, Roy continued.

“We must take note of the fact that the road had been long and the meeting was already three hours in, and not even halfway through. As we were consulting the laws that should be imposed on travelling traders, a sudden grumble echoed in the meeting room.”

Slight giggles and murmurs along the lines of “This is  _ so  _ Ling”. Roy hid a beam. He was cornering the King.

“Of course, all of our ministers were polite enough to let it slip. In an attempt to encourage the Emperor to eat, I started sipping my coffee as Hawkeye ate one of the cookies. The Emperor, however, had a strong will and absolutely refused to eat, pursing his lips until they almost disappeared.

“The next loud grumble made Prime Minister Armstrong, not such a gentle figure, as you may know, speak up.

‘You know, Emperor Yao, we aren’t going to poison you. If we had any intention to, I’d first get rid of Mustang.’

I laughed drily at the joke and took one bite of the cheesecake myself, but not before eyeing Armstrong carefully and confirming it was all a joke. It also helped that Breda had stolen one of the cheesecake pieces before, so I was sure they were unpoisoned.”

“Wait, so you didn’t know for sure that they weren’t poisoned?” Ling asked, faking concern. Anyone could tell he wasn’t one to worry much about poison- he ate whatever he got his hands on, always causing problems for Lan and his other aides.

“I was sure your portion was safe. Mine, however… You can never be too careful around Armstrong,” Roy chose his words wisely.

“She wouldn’t resort to such lowly techniques,” Alphonse argued.

“Don’t let your guard down around her, though,” Edward also said. It looked like today, he was taking Roy’s side more than usually. What did this one have cooked up for him, Roy wondered. Riza was scary enough on her own; he didn’t need the unpredictable Fullmetal on his mind, as well.

“Anyway,” Winry interrupted, prolonging the word, “this isn’t an anti-Armstrong meeting.”

Roy caught her point and decided he didn’t need another blonde against him, especially not one that could wield a wrench. He resumed his story.

“As said, even after this interlude, Ling just brushed the matter off and continued with the paperwork. Soon, the grumbles became an orchestra in the background, to the point where we almost got used to their frequency and tone.

“At one point, Lan Fa-Yao” ‘Damn it, again!’ He quickly watched Lan from the corner of his eyes, but she just shrugged:.

“It’s not like anyone other than Ling calls me by my name, so I’m fine with Lan,” She stated. 

Roy could read her voice fluctuations well enough now to be able to tell that she was having trouble calling him Ling instead of Your Majesty. It was the same for him and Riza at the beginning, so he knew the hesitation all too well. Even so, the Xingese couple has been married for eight year already -who would have thought they’d be the first ones to hit it off? Roy still wanted to make Ling confess how he managed to make ends meet with such a delicate matter-so they had to get used to their first names sooner rather than later!

“So Lan once even voiced her concerns by making her presence felt and asking the King to not hold back, but he brushed off the comment with a negative gesture and continued delighting us with the overture of his hunger.”

His serious tone created a great contrast with the words he used, making those around the table struggle not to laugh. Who knew three years of reading stories with his daughter would pay off even in a showdown?!

“The meeting was over four hours later. All of us were already humming along the grumbles and eagerly waiting to stuff our mouths ourselves. But not before the private meeting between the King and the Führer.

“I invited the royal family to my humble abode. Havoc, who happens to be my driver as well as my bodyguard, was finally able to let his polite mask- that, between us, isn’t even that good- slide. 

As such, with the next royal grumble also came the question, ‘Your majesty, sir! Excuse me for being so blunt, but may I know why you refrained from eating?’

‘If you must know, it’s because of Lan.’

I turned around from my seat next to the driver and threw him a puzzled look. I bet Havoc wanted to do the same, but he needed to keep his eyes on the road, unless he wanted to receive a good scolding from Riza.”

He glanced over to her, content with his small revenge. She kept from rolling her eyes, but he still beamed.

“It looked like my quizzical face, along with my wife’s was enough for the king to answer our question before we voiced it.

‘Lan overheard the nobles talking worriedly about the fact that my diet might affect the royal kitchen’s provisions in a negative way. As such, she suggested an exercise of self-restraint.’ He answered calmly, petting his ever-growling stomach.

‘Wait, shouldn’t you try that at home? Why in a foreign country? You could eat literally  _ anything  _ here!’ Havoc argued, turning the wheel into the parking lot of our house. ‘It wouldn’t affect Xing’s budget!’

‘Actually, no. It makes sense like this- if he can show self-restraint here, it should be even easier at home,’ Riza realised, earning a nod from Lan.

‘Precisely,’ Ling also confirmed, getting out of the car and stretching. He looked around and then added, ‘And they were probably even more impressed after hearing my stomach growling so loudly and yet still seeing me refuse the food.’

‘Wait, that was on purpose?’ I asked horrified, dropping the polite tone and starting to get angry. Even Havoc shot daggers in your direction, Ling! He almost got into the hospital again because of you!” Roy commented, feelings rushing back over him. 

Ling scratched the back of his neck and smiled coyly.

“And after I had bought all that food…” Roy sighed. “My subordinates would think me crazy! Only Breda could appreciate something like those delicacies to their true value, but I had no intention of him getting any rounder.

‘You really think I can’t control my stomach after all these years?’ Ling asked me with a disappointed look, as if he expected more of me. I kept gaping at him, wondering if he really could have faked it all.

‘Ah, that was a good performance,’ he praised his belly and burst through the doors of our house. ‘It was funny, seeing your worried faces.’ He laughed, walking through the halls as if he was at home. 

Me and Riza followed  him in a daze, wondering how people usually dealt with him. I was so amazed I didn’t even have the time to be angry anymore.

‘Going days on end without food may have been a problem, but a matter of hours is but a game for me,’ he continued proudly. A soft sigh came from behind, as Lan let her mask down and showed her tired face.

‘But now that my people are gone and we are in your house… Where's the food, Mustang?’ He turned on his heels and graced us with a beam.

‘Havoc,’ I called tiredly.

My man knows me well enough. ‘Shall I bring the food from Central, sir?’ he asked with a trace of a smile.

‘Bingo.’

‘Right away sir!’ And then he added under his breath, ‘Unless Breda ate it all.’

In less than an hour- proof that Breda’s stomach wasn’t as big as he made it sound- came in form of a dozen plates sent to our place. With Nel now awake and also hungry, it was a good opportunity to sit down and eat.”

“Which we would also be doing if not for my husband,” Winry found the perfect moment to interrupt and argue for her case.

He expected to have to clear his throat to make the Elric stop from delivering his comeback, but, to his surprise, he didn’t have to. The blonde just rolled his eyes and made eye contact with him, encouraging Roy to continue.

Since he was such a kind-hearted person- and kept track of everything Ed owed him to rub it in his face if need ever arose- he did just that.

“Now, as you all know, I enjoy playing chess. It seems my daughter also does, thus we keep a game of chess on the table in the living room. Incidentally, we had lunch just there. We were all enjoying the delicious food when suddenly, Ling attracted my attention to a dish I hadn’t noticed.”

He stopped to look at the Xingese. The man was calmly looking back at him, but Roy wasn’t thrown off. His eyes were barely opened, which meant he  _ must  _ have been at least a bit embarrassed. 

And now for the checkmate!

“‘Why is this so hard? Are you testing my teeth?’

In one of his hands was the white king, after a failed attempt of being digested.”

Everyone burst into laughter, to Roy’s delight. Even Ling was smiling, and Lan Fan was chuckling, with a hand placed gently on his shoulder as a reassurance that she wouldn’t leave his side no matter what he tried to eat next.

“For real?” Al asked, still laughing.

“Yeah,” Ling nodded. “It was indeed a bit embarrassing when the child pointed out to me that that was her game, but what can you do?” He seemed resigned.

“I hope you replaced that piece, Mustang,” Ed noted, trying to hide the remains of his laugh. His hoarse voice betrayed him.

“I gave it to Ling as a gift. To remember that it isn’t food and spread the knowledge. Nel was pretty sad about it until I explained her that she doesn’t want Ling’s saliva on her set. She then was the one who gave it to him.”

Another small fit of giggles. Roy was proud with his storytelling abilities, but Ling’s composure did bother him a bit. When everyone calmed down, the King spoke.

“My turn, I guess.” 

That was it? Roy clicked his tongue annoyed, but let the King continue. 

Ling looked at them all and raised his eyebrows in a dangerous way. Then, he asked, almost in a whisper, “Has any of you ever heard the story of Alphonse’s proposal to Mei?”

Roy linked his hands beneath his chin in a thoughtful manner. Now that he thought of it, he had just heard about the engagement and congratulated the two. He never knew how that happened… 

Judging from the silence, it seemed to be the same for the rest. Not even Ed knew, and that caused him to frown.

“Damn,” Al exhaled quietly, pleading eyes to Ling. “You wouldn’t,” he dared his brother-in-law. Half-brother-in-law. Xing’s politics were too damn intricate, Roy decided. 

“All's fair in love and war, our host had just declared it,” Ling affirmed, happily using Winry’s words.

A disheveled Al slowly turned around to see an apologetic smile from his childhood friend. Not that it changed reality.

“They were gonna find out sooner or later…” he finally sighed, trying to resign and making a tired hand sign to Ling to go on.

“Perfect.” The king beamed, and started his story. “Around six years ago…”

“It was seven,” Al interrupted in a tired, monotone voice.

“Fine then,  _ seven _ years ago,” Ling corrected himself calmly, enjoying Al’s lack of energy. 

So the two had grown closer, Roy noted.

“Al was still learning Alkahestry under Mei at the court. According to her, he had almost mastered its art and could soon be independent. The young man, however, seemed to have plans of hanging around for a bit longer.” 

Ling paused dramatically, enjoying the shade of red that rose to Al’s cheeks. To think the King would be such a tease… It made Roy all the happier he suggested this game.

He felt youthful again, the young love and innocent embarrassment refreshing. He missed those days- the flirtatious smiles, remarks with deeper meaning thrown easily, lingering looks over strands of blonde hair out of her bun… 

He glanced at Riza, who had the same nostalgic look on her face. Quietly, he squeezed her hand under the table, and she responded with another squeeze.

“One day, Mei had to suspend the lesson because of a long-since programmed meeting. She seemed to have forgotten to announce her student of it, though. As a result, he walked into an empty room, only disturbed by the chirp of a solitary bird on the window ledge. He got close to it, scaring the small bird, which flew out into the clear sky. 

The boy looked around and outside the window, but there no sign of her.

‘That’s strange.’ Alphonse thought. ‘She’s never late for our lessons.’”

“Wait, hold on.” Al interrupted. “How come you know what I’m thinking? And those are details even I don’t recall!”

“Oh, just go with the flow!” Ling answered in a chirpy voice with a flutter of the hand. 

Roy hid a smile: was this really the King of the neighbouring country? How did he escape the other 48  heads -Mei not included- that wanted his throne? Surely it must have been thanks to Lan. Although… Ling could also show signs of a leader, and he could be firm when he wanted to. They may have just laughed about his hunger, but wasn’t that whole thing proof of his strength?

“Worried, Al left the training room shortly afterwards to check the other places where the princess could have been. She had left even her much beloved panda in her bedroom. That gave Al enough of a reason to keep searching. Her chambers, the library, the gardens- she was nowhere to be found! ” he exclaimed with fake surprise. For such an inexpressive face, he did a great job at telling stories.

“But he had the luck to meet me!” he continued enthusiastically, ignoring a grumble from his ‘victim’.

“In an excess of kindness, I shared my knowledge with the distressed man: the princess was to meet with a nobel to talk about marriage prospects, I informed Alphonse, unaware that he would ask me, in between quick, frightened pants, where he could find the two people. I pointed to the inner gardens and gone he was, like the sun during the storm.”

Count on Ling to try making a story sound poetic and… Not exactly failing. Roy glimpsed his wife’s look. What did she mean he wasn’t much different? He wasn’t making it poetic! He valued officiality and formality!

He humphed and turned back to the speaker, pretending not to feel the fond look or loving squeeze she gave his hand.

“As the big brother I am,” a bitter laugh of Alphonse’s was ignored, “I made sure to watch after him and see what he was up to. We wouldn’t want Alphonse getting in trouble, right?”

Yeah sure, and Roy didn’t love teasing Fullmetal.

“Alphonse made his way to the inner garden- literally, may I add. He seemed to be in such a rush he didn’t even bother taking the stairs. He used his alchemy to create a slope out of the castle walls. Thank you for being decent enough to repair it,” he told the culprit, who nodded with a sarcastic smile.

“He looked around dazed for a few moments before spotting Mei and the man. Their arms were linked as they took a pleasant walk in the garden. Despite her polite smile, Alphonse could tell she wasn’t enjoying herself. She longed for the touch of someone else.”

“That sounds too cheesy for Mei! Stop it!” Al complained, trying to pretend his cheeks weren’t all flushed. He had been in a suit of armour for so long, unable to be as expressive as a human. Ten years later, Roy was still getting used to it.

“Mei is not here, so I may tell the story as I wish,” Ling dismissed the comment with a wave of a hand, as if he was driving away an annoying fly. Al could only sigh heavily, before a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m next. Better take care of your wife,” he smile-smirked.

The king bit his lower lip and answered after a moment of analysing his options with closed eyes. “I’ll tone it down, just because I love Lan that much,” he declared, in the same tone you’d use when saying, ‘I think I’ll buy some apples.”

Roy observed Lan’s pale skin turning a shade redder, but nothing else changed much on her face. She did mutter a “Thank you,” to which Ling replied by wrapping his arm around her small frame, starting her. She soon relaxed, listening to the rest of the story pressed against his chest. She seemed used to such spontaneous acts of showing love.

“Young Alphonse quietly landed a few feet away from the two, on the freshly mowed lawn and hid himself from view next to a bed of roses. He didn’t ponder his next move much. He left the hiding spot and headed straight for the princess, his mind blurred except for one line of his friend: “marriage prospects.”

“The thought of the princess getting married was inconceivable. Al didn’t want to picture her getting married to anyone… Or rather, to anyone else.”

Roy shifted his eyes to a very embarrassed Al, biting his tongue as he couldn’t disagree. Apparently, Ling was better at reading people then he was given credit for.

“Indeed, Alphonse realised as he was running towards the two of them, what he was doing was awfully selfish. Of course the princess was going to get married one day, and a political marriage was neither unheard of nor undesirable. For the other people at the court, it was a mystery how she hadn’t yet married. Somewhere deep down, every time he heard that, Al hoped he played a role in her refusals.

“He wasn’t even so dense he didn’t realise his feelings. 

‘Idiot’ he was now blaming himself, aware of how stupid and utterly self-centered he’d been in not preparing this moment. The thought had crossed his mind several times, when he admired her figure while she was learning or when he wondered how she could possibly be so beautiful and yet so smart at the same time. Each time, though, he dismissed the idea with thoughts along the lines of, “No way she’d accept” or “Yeah right”.

“Mei had also been obvious enough about her feelings, but with Alphonse always so calm and undistracted from his learning- or at least so she thought,” Ling said, raising his eyebrows in Al’s direction, as if he wasn’t already red enough, “she never dared launch into discussions about the future. She would sometimes melancholically mention it, and he’d nod, lost in thought as well. And while it was blatantly obvious to everyone at the court, the two always postponed the proposal.

“But not this time. If someone else was going to propose to Mei and she was going to accept just because he hadn’t asked before, he would only have himself to blame for his whole life. And so, Alphonse was about to touch her shoulder when she turned around, feeling his presence.

“He stopped, dead in his tracks, and looked at her, trying to catch his breath. She looked stunning in the evening glow, dressed up for this meeting in one of the Xingese kimonos, the bright colors beautifully complimenting her pale skin. The thought occurred to him that he may be acting inappropriately, but it was already too late.

‘Alphonse-sama? What’s the matter?’ She asked surprised, her mouth circling in the cutest question mark Al had seen. 

“He straightened up and decided not to look at the man next to her, in fear he’d lose his courage. He felt the man's look piercing through him and gulped.

‘Really, what’s wrong? Did anything…?’ Mei started again, but was interrupted when Al suddenly kissed her. 

“It was their first kiss and it felt rushed and messy, and Al wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but he was pretty sure he heard Mei gasp. He just wanted to taste her lipstick and to tell the man next to him she was his, to mark his territory of sorts.”

Al stifled a groan. Lan elbowed her husband in the stomach and conveyed in a swift look that he had described the kiss enough, so Ling cleared his throat and changed the picture. It surprised Roy how he could be so unembarrassed of his own words.

“Al broke off the kiss after what seemed like an eternity to him, but was actually only a few seconds. Mei looked at him puzzled, but he didn’t back away. He knew exactly what he had to do, so he started talking in Xingese, as to be understood by the man next to him, too.

‘I’m sorry that was so sudden, but I have wanted to tell you this for a long time and never really had the courage to. When I heard from Li- his Majesty… I just had to.’ He started, sure of himself. 

“Mei looked like she wanted to ask something, but Al shook his head and let his arms fall from her shoulders to her hands, imprisoning them in his. He let himself down on one knee as in the Amestrian tradition and asked one simple question, that, he had a feeling, was merely a formality.

‘Mei, would you marry me?’

“She started, her hands trembling in his. But she didn’t need to think about the answer.

‘Of course.’ Her cheeks were matching his, a rose color filling them.

“Now, Al could finally look at he man next to her, quite proudly, might I add. 

“Bewildered was an understatement of the man’s expression- he was damn near horrified. 

Of course, Alphonse had proposed on a whim: no ring, no preparation. In fact, he didn’t even know how proposals were usually made in Xing. Even so, he figured it was pretty romantic.”

Al snorted at the remark. Roy wandered why Ling chose this story. Sure, it was surprising for the younger Elric to act so rashly, but it wasn’t the kind of story to enter a contest with! Not when it competed against eating a chess piece and what he feared was going to ruin his respectable image.

“He got up from his knees and wrapped a protective arm around Mei, throwing another look the man’s way. His arm was still linked to Mei’s, making Al frown. Did he not just hear him proposing? He did speak in Xingese, didn’t he?

‘Alphonse-sama, what exactly did you hear from his Majesty?’ Mei suddenly asked, her face painted with concern.

‘That you were going to marry this man?’ !he answered, but it sounded more like a question as doubt started to settle in.”

‘Oh no’ Roy thought, covering his mouth with a hand to hide a blooming smile at what he thought was the answer to the question. Next to him, he felt Riza do the same.

“‘Oh,’ Mei said simply before bursting into laughter. 

Al looked at her perplexed, waiting for her to calm down and explain what was going on.

‘I do not intend to marry her,’ the man next to her explained instead, making Al shift his look to him in confusion, then back to a now calmer, still chuckling Mei. His eyes did all the talking for him, and she answered the unasked question in between laughs.

‘He’s my brother.’”

Of course. When you have 49 siblings, this kind of problem needs to be taken into account.

“‘Oh,’ it was Alphonse’s turn to exclaim, as he felt all the blood in his body race to his face. He bowed deeply.

‘I’m so sorry for misunderstanding.’

‘What, so you’re pulling out of our marriage already? We’ve barely been engaged for 2 minutes,’ Mei teased, to which Al shook his head energetically:

‘No. Now if you’d excuse me, I’ll let you finish your talk while I go look for His Majesty.’ 

“He bowed gallantly before disappearing again, back into the palace. 

“I then knew I had to be on the run if I wanted to survive my now Brother-in-law’s rage.

“The end,” Ling bowed dramatically, earning applauses from around the table. They were loud enough to cover Al’s quiet ‘Damn’ but not enough to deafen the laughs.

“So that’s why you never told us the story?” Ed asked, punching his brother’s shoulder slightly. He nudged at Ed to get off his back, his face a fidel copy of what it must have looked like back then.

“Young love,” Riza mumbled with a quiet smile, her face content.

“Oh come on, we aren’t that old.” Roy commented, stealing a glance at his wife and then at their child, who was playing hide-and-seek outside along the others. She was paired with Yuriy, from the looks of it. That made him frown, but then he remembered Riza’s words from when they arrived and inhaled deeply, focusing on the good aspects. To be married to the woman he had almost seen dying and have a child together? Did he even deserve this much happiness?

“This is so cute!” Winry said with puppy-eyes, poking Ed in her excitement. He had to take her arm in his to stop her, but he couldn’t stop her from talking.

“I could have also used our engagement to embarrass you! Too bad everyone knows already!” she pouted.

“EVERYBODY knows?!” Edward yelled. Saying he didn’t look pleased was an understatement- he looked  _ pissed. _

That was weird. Sure, Riza was good friend of Winry’s and Al was his brother, but the Yaos… Of course Mei could have told them, but Roy just couldn’t picture the royal family discussing Fullmetal’s engagement over dinner. He was sure they had better things to talk about, like the leader’s diet.

“You know, Lan is a precious client.” Winry said in her most innocent voice, enraging Ed all the more.

“Do all your clients know?!” His facial expression was too precious for Roy not to intervene.

“Equivalent Exchange!” he shouted in his most Ed-like voice he could make and stood up. “I’ll give half of my life to you-”

“Oh shut up!” Ed snapped, also getting up and pointing his finger to his boss. “Like you’re one to talk!”

“At least I was romantic!” Roy pointed out proudly. His contentment was soon destroyed by Riza’s calm, cutting voice:

“Not exactly.”

Roy turned to her in a daze and fixed her with an unhappy look:

“What the hell, Riza?” was the only thing he could blurt out before a smug Edward started baffling.

“Thank you, Hawkeye!”

“But he didn’t ask for my hand in marriage by using alchemical laws either.” She shot Edward a look that made the man shut up and sit down. Alphonse giggled, obviously happy that the attention was diverted from him. 

Riza noticed Roy’s scowl and attempted to heal his wounded heart.

“Roy, quit pouting. I’m just saying you kinda asked me to withdraw from the military and quit my job of a lifetime to marry you.” Well it was impossible any other way. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t like it,” she added, trying to sooth the situation.

Roy recalled that night, the one he needed to plan years beforehand to be sure he’d make it through and not give up halfway.

How could she say that wasn’t romantic? He felt her squeeze his hand again and he grumpily admitted that it wasn’t the  _ most _ romantic thing under his breath. Looking at her, she realised she didn’t need romantic, though. 

She just needed him.

Ling snickered, attracting everyone’s attention.

“Just thinking I fit in well in the ‘strange-proposal’ club,”  Ling explained. Raised eyebrows pushed for details. “I was turned down three times before she accepted.”

Roy opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. At least he had been accepted from the first try, though he did want to propose several other times and just retreated because it didn’t feel appropriate.

Actually, it wasn’t a good time when he proposed, either. He had no intention of proposing before he became Führer, but then again, he wanted her to already be his wife when he started ruling the country. It wasn’t rushed either. The velvet case had been bought for over two years prior and they had both thought about it countless times.

When she accepted, it just felt right- having her not as his bodyguard, not as his subordinate, but at his side, walking along him. In his perspective, she had always been with him, but he knew she kept herself behind him, on the sidelines.

When she walking down the aisle, she was smiling. She whispered, “I caught up to you” when she arrived. He wanted to laugh at her, to tell her she had always been running ahead of him.

Nel’s birth made him the happiest father on earth. He had pictures of her in his pocket watch- the exterior with the rough basorelief of the Amestrian lion, the interior with his daughter’s soft, loving face. It gave him power to march through the day, power to continue being the Flame Alchemist.

He looked outside the window and spotted her easily: she was running toward the tree, trying to reach it before Chen, who had to be _ it. _ How could he not love her? To think such an angle blessed his life with her mere existence…

Ed’s high-pitched voice pulled him out of his thoughts yet again.

“Yo Mustang, you listening?”

“Yes Fullmetal, it’s called distributive attention. Absolutely useful when working,” he smirked, not entirely lying. He did register Ling’s lack of further details on the topic.

“Oh yeah? Then wha-” Ed commented, only to be interrupted by Alphonse.

“Brother, let him be. Besides, it’s my turn to tell the story!” He started with an Alphonse-brand smile to finish with an Ed-like grin. The transition was spookily fast and natural, making Roy wonder if he ever used it on his men in Eastern quarters. 

He knew Al had a reputation as the “nice” Administrator- he was a people’s man. Al never watched the country from his castle up in the sky. He went in town, talked to people, saw life as a citizen. Much like his brother, Edward behaved the same, just that he was known as the “short-tempered” one- quick to get angry was an underestimation. He cared greatly for his set of morals being respected. God help someone who had overstepped the boundaries of being human…

It was quite different for Falman and Ross. They were born military men -and women- used to inspecting the others in the old-fashioned way and not talking to citizens one-on-one. They always kept a business-like approach and hardly dropped the tough act.

Ross was still beloved because of how correct she was and how she struggled to help everyone. Besides, she was easy to win over with small gifts. She accepted no bribe, but a woman is still a woman and what woman doesn’t like a bouquet of flowers? Well besides Armstrong- she was in a league of her own. 

It also helped that Denny was very friendly and loved by everyone. Of course Ross took him with her- he could provide her with the latest gossip and was a very big help in the South. Besides, the two had a strong connection. A really strong one, that made the Mustang unit open a poll betting on their wedding date. Right now, Mustang had his money down on “the following spring”.

Falman… Was a harder nut to crack. He did his job flawlessly, and people trusted him, but they formed no sort of emotional bond. It took over an year and a certain accident with a Drachman for him to win the people over, but he made it. Roy recalled Breda taking everyone out drinking afterwards. Good old times!

“This is a story from Lan’s time in Rush Valley,” Al’s soothing voice brought him back on track.

“Lan woke up to the bangs in her window: white, unknown things were being thrown at her room. She analysed them: they didn’t seem to be any form of artillery, or if they were, they were awfully conceived- they splashed against the window, not breaking into her room.

“She glanced outside and, to her surprise, everything was covered in that white thing! And then, she spotted two figures, dressed in thick coats that made their silhouettes hard to distinguish. The flicker of blond hair and the automail leg told her it was Winry and Paninya, though.

“She lowered her window and heard them yell, ‘Come on out! Let’s play!’

“Lan frowned and pointed to the white cover of the earth. The girls giggled, ‘It’s snow.’

“Snow… Lan tried connecting the word to her scarce knowledge of it. She had heard it several times, but she had no consistent image associated with it. She decided it would be a good learning opportunity and thus accepting the invitation, getting dressed. She supposed she should find thicker clothes, judging from the women’s outfit.

“She was out shortly afterwards, walking through the white  _ thing _ . It had a weird consistency- something like wool, but icier and melting at human contact. It was odd how the white  _ thing _ also fell from the sky, and her first impulse was to defend herself from the flakes.

“She felt something cold slamming against her back and she turned to the two giggling women, both with balls of snow in their hands.

‘Let’s have a fight!’ Paninya suggested, throwing another snowball in Lan’s direction: this time, she ducked. She also got down and molded a ball. Unlike wool, it stood together to form any shape she gave it.

‘Sure,’ she answered, three snowballs soon in her hands as she started getting the hang of it. She threw one in Winry’s direction. Heavier than she expected, light enough to maneuver.

“And so, the fight started. Lan fastly noticed a huge mountain of snow and rolled towards it, trying not to be hit. She hid behind it and used it as a provision for snow.

“She soon realised if she wanted to win, she had to go on the offensive. She knew Paniniya had a talent for fighting, but she never expected Winry to pinpoint her with such accuracy. If not for her quick reflexes, she would have been out of the game in no time.”

“Of course she has accuracy, she tried her wrench on me,” Ed mumbled under his breath. It was Winry’s turn to roll her eyes and gesture at Al to continue. 

It looked like Ed finding out about the wide spread of the proposal made him gain confidence and feel less guilty about the steak. ‘A real shame,’ Roy couldn’t help but think.

“She got out from behind her hiding place and started throwing snowballs to where Winry should have been… But she wasn’t there. There was only Paniniya with a smug smile. She sensed a  _ qi  _ moving behind her fast enough to dodge- _ there _ was Winry.

“Now she was cornered and the weather made it more difficult to sense someone’s  _ qi _ through the sole. She had to do something, and quick. As such, she scanned for a place to retreat to, as to narrow down the angle between the two opponents and control the situation at hand. She found her escape in the form of a small opening in the river’s bed and made a run for it.

‘Hey, Lan, stop!’ She heard a concerned voice behind her, but figured it was just another trick so she kept on running towards the river.

‘No really, it’s dangerous!’ she heard, but it was too late. She was already a step away from the frozen river.

‘The ice is too thin!’ Paninya yelled too, just before Lan felt something crack beneath her feet. And then she heard the crack deepen. And then she found out that frozen water is really cold.”

Laughter filled the room at Al’s conclusion.

“That day, Lan experienced the meaning of the phrase ‘walking on thin ice’. Literally.”

Lan was so embarrassed that she hid her face in Ling’s shirt. He petted her dark hair gently.

“I’ve never heard this one,” he pouted, his accusing eyes fixing Lan’s.

“Because I haven’t told you. And no-one should have known!” She threw daggers in Winry’s direction, who shook her hands in defense.

“Obviously,” Ling answered, clamping his tongue and following Lan’s gaze. Winry continued to raise her hands defensively, swearing she had not uttered a word about the happening. 

Al came to her aid. “Paniniya told me, when I was once there with Brother for maintenance.”

“Oh, so she divulged the secret,” Winry said, obviously disappointed in her friend. “We promised Lan not to say anything!” She continued, giving her friend a look that read ‘See, you can trust me!’ but that quickly transformed into ‘Glad I don’t have to hold that secret anymore’.

Lan sighed, “Well I’m next anyway and my target is Winry, so…”

“Well now I’m scared.” the blonde joked, but her smile died as she saw Lan’s deadly look, “Okay,  _ now  _ I’m really scared, what did I do?”

When Lan smirked, Roy knew he had proposed the right way to spend their tame. This was going to be even more fun from now on!

“We were back in Xing…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I promised you the fun would start and here I am! Honestly, I had a huge grin on my face while editing this, so I hope it made you smile, too! As always, comments and kudos are much beloved! Let me know what you guys think and I hope you liked this long chapter. The next one will be shorter:)  
> Oh yeah, and if you wanna know my headcanons for Roy proposing to Riza, check out my oneshot Late! For Ling proposing to Lan... wait for chapter 13:)


	8. Hide and Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a break from the adults' game, let us watch the children thin up equally mischievous tactics to win a game of Hide and Seek. I say that, but it's mostly a pretext to have Penelope and Yuriy bond:)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a difference between fair game and playing games.  
> -Hillary Clinton

Penelope loved chess, but not even the satisfaction of taking down the opponent’s queen rose a candle to enjoying a good game of hide and seek with her best friend.

“Yu-chan, we need a strategy,” she started their two-minute strategy meeting. It was their arbiter’s idea to go with teams and strategies, which made Nel bubble up with excitement. Her toughest opponents were her father and her grandfather, both of which taught her how to think of the steps ahead.

“If one of us is  _ it _ , it’s gonna be easier,” Yuriy pondered. “In that case, one of us hangs around the tree and the other searches.”

“Don’t underestimate them, Yu-chan! They might try to trick us and attract both of us!” Penelope argued, a thinking finger pointed to her chin. Her father always put emphasis on never being prepared enough.

“Well we won’t get tricked that easily!” Yuriy quickly decided.

Nel smiled at his enthusiasm. He was always like that, easy going and confident. She liked that part of him.

“But if we are hiding,” she resumed her strategy, “we have to distract their attention.” She hummed, deep in thought. What would be be able to shift the other team’s attention and buy them the necessary time to sneak up to the tree? There was one way that came to mind…

Just as she opened her mouth, she also saw her friend’s eyes lightening up and they both exclaimed at the same time, “Alchemy!”

“Time’s up!” Aunt Mei announced them, holding baby Trisha by her armpits as she walked around in the fresh grass, bare feet touching the fluffy green of the yard.

Penelope and Yuriy exchanged looks and firm nods, fist-bumping and running to the starting point.

“Now then, let’s draw straws.” 

Penelope exchanged a glance with Sarah, who pinpointed her with a wild look. However, not even the most fierce of gazes could make Nel weaver-  _ this _ was a battlefield. And in war and love, there are no rules- or so aunt Winry tended to say.

Not even five seconds in the game and Nel knew that fate wasn’t on their side today: Sarah was the one guarding the tree, which could only mean that Chen was roaming around, ready to discover their positions and transmit it to his team mate.

Yuriy and Penelope split up to hide in different places, so that if one of them was to be found, the other still had a chance. Even if only one of them made it to the tree, it was still considered a win. They didn’t even tell each other where they were hiding. Nel insisted on that so that they wouldn’t accidentally give away their positions. She trusted their strong bond to make up for the lack of information.

Nel had one hiding place in mind. Ever since uncle Ed gave them a tour of the house, she had noticed that the courtyard had a special dog-house for Den, who was now basking in the sun with Black Hayate, covering the entrance just enough for her to slip in unobserved.

The only problem was making it all over the courtyard to that place without being seen by Chen, who was certainly watching each and every of their moves while they ran into hiding. Nel muttered something about “only one of them counting is cheating”, but the rules were already made. Besides, any complaints now would be seen as petty excuses. 

Luckily, Yuriy had them covered. He quickly clapped his hands and made a wall of earth and grass rise between them and the tree, giving them enough time to secure their positions. Penelope made a note to herself to congratulate him later and rolled into the doghouse. From her secure spot, she peeked outside to see the wall had disappeared- Yuriy must have taken care of it before Aunt Winry’s wrath could reach them. Nel fought back a smile and returned her attention to the second part of the plan.

Penelope fished a piece of chalk from her pocket- she never left without one- and started drawing on the walls of the doghouse. She prayed the chalk wouldn’t screech against the wood. The house was fairly close to the tree, so she had to be careful at all times. That also meant it was closer to her target, though.

Just as she was adding the finishing touches, she felt steps close to her hiding place. Above Den’s head, she spotted the legs of a small boy and recognised their owner as Chen. She stopped herself from clapping in time- if she was to make any noise now, it would come to a running contest she wasn’t sure she could win.

Nel felt cornered. A distant memory of her father talking about how uncle Ling and aunt Lan had this gift of feeling someone’s presence suddenly resurfaced and she understood right away that Chen had uncovered her hiding place. Of course he’d go after her- she was the easier target.

Another step and he halted in front of the opening to the doghouse. He was now only waiting for her to come out… But why wasn’t he ushering the dogs away?

Nel needed to think up a plan, and fast. She didn’t want to disappoint Yuriy like that. She frowned and started drawing another circle, not caring about the sound anymore- Chen knew she was there anyway, but for whatever reason, he didn’t attack. She needed to take full advantage of that.

She clapped her hands and pressed them to the walls of the doghouse, where a small crack formed, allowing her to see the tree, without being seen from the outside. Sarah wasn’t there. 

That was the chance she had been waiting for. She inhaled deeply and clapped her hands yet again, activating the first circle to make an opening in the house. As soon as she felt the breeze kiss her face, she launched into a run.

It was purely a game of luck. If she managed to catch Chen by surprise, he wouldn’t wrap his mind about the situation fast enough to reach the tree before her. 

She ran with all she got, glimpsing from time to time behind. She had indeed caught him off guard, but he was quick on the uptake and got closer to her with every second. If it kept going like this, he’d reach the tree before her. 

Nel felt the air leaving her lungs, but she willed her body to push forward. She was only ten steps away from the tree. 

Peeking behind was a fatal choice. Chen was already next to her. The question whether he made special exercises in the Imperial Court struck her- he was fitter than his appetite left to the imagination. However, that wasn’t her biggest problem at the moment.

A flicker of blond hair across the field caught her attention. Yuriy was running as if his life depended on it, Sarah struggling to keep up with him. 

It was too late, though.

Chen had also noticed him and could now denounce both of them. Nel looked at her teammate, trying to apologise. Her voice caught up in her throat from exhaustion and disappointment.

He, however, showed no sign of regret. Yuriy grinned widely as he clapped his hands and rolled to his right, deviating from his path… 

Nel immediately understood that he was reactivating the alchemical circle from the start of the game and dodged the wall of grass in time, leaping for the tree. She touched it just as Chen tripped over the flying ground and fell on his face.

“And the winners are Yuriy and Penelope!” Aunt Mei announced. 

Even though they won, Nel felt disheartened- her plan had failed big time and she even had Yuriy save her. 

Her teammate reached the tree a few moments later, his face beaming. His smile withered when he saw her dejected expression. “What happened, Nel? We won, right?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah but… I  kept you back!” she argued, looking down and digging her nails into the hem of her skirt.

“You didn’t! If you hadn’t launched yourself at the tree, we wouldn’t have won. Besides, that’s what a team is! We have each other’s backs!” he said simply, grinning.

She looked up to him and smiled as well. “Yeah… you’re right! I’ll save you next time, Yu-chan!”

He laughed and high-fived her. He was the only one who could always make her smile, even when she was sick or on the verge of crying. She always asked her mom to call aunt Winry so she could talk to her friend when she was in bed with a fever, and it always made the pain evaporate. She liked this part of him, too.

She decided she wanted to repay the favour with the next match, and used the two minutes break to catch her breath and plan.

As soon as the countdown began, she started running around in circles around the tree. Only after four laps around the courtyard did she activate the alchemical circle that hid both her and Yuriy from a puzzled Sarah. 

Nel triumphantly locked eyes with her friend.

_ “Listen here, Yu-chan. This time, I have a plan that will work!” she told him in the short break, holding his gaze firmly. He nodded, just as serious. _

_ “So Chen can read our wavelengths, right?” He nodded in response. “Then our only choice is to confuse him!” _

_ “And how do we do that?” _

_ “You try to be calm for once, and try acting like me! Instead, I’ll be as energetic as you!” _

_ “So you want him to believe I’m you?” Nel nodded, hoping Yuriy would trust her. Two minutes wasn’t enough to explain the whole plan, after all. “I think we can pull it off,” he answered after a moment of thinking it through.  _

The boy ran to what Nel thought was a safe choice- the back of the house, between the wood for the fire place and the old barrels whose purpose no one seemed to know. 

She, however, took the risky, Yuriy-like option: beneath the stairs leading to the entrance door. Trom there, she had a good view on Chen, but he couldn’t spot her unless she got closer.

Once she was hidden, she focused all of her energy in the tip of her fingers, trying to be as giddy as her best friend, yet lose none of her focus. She wondered how he constantly did that. A challenge it was, but the outcome of the game depended on her pulling it off. 

_ “If we manage that, I’m pretty sure Chen will send Sarah after what he thinks is me. She’ll have a surprise when she’ll see you instead!” _

_ “Why would they target you?” Yuriy frowned, confused.  _

_ Nel simply shrugged, “I think he’s under the impression that I’m the easier target.” _

_ “Well, he’s wrong.” Yuriy grinned, bringing a blush to Penelope’s cheeks. She wanted to have that much confidence, too. _

Nel watched quietly (and a bit fearfully) as Sarah exchanged a few words with Chen before before she took off. Nel loosed a breath when she saw Sarah going for to the back of the house. Her plan had worked!

She couldn’t slack off, though. She needed to attract Chen’s attention so Yuriy could get by past them and touch the tree.

_ “There are chances I’ll be caught, Yu-chan. That means you have to win for us!”  _

Nel started drawing frantically. Aunt Mei had agreed on her using flame alchemy as long as it wasn’t directed at a person and if she promised to be careful. 

She remembered her dad’s words.  _ “Always envision the flame. Never let it get bigger than you want. And always, at all costs, feel it. Connect with the it. The flame is an extension of your hand and you can control it as you wish.” _

Penelope had never before attempted such a long-range shot, but there was a first time for everything. She pressed her hands against the circle and closed her eyes, feeling the warm fire erupt from her fingers and light up a small patch of the garden. 

She opened her eyes to see the exact picture in her mind and was overcome with happiness as the fire danced in the daylight exactly as she pictured it! Acting like Yuriy was easier for once.

Chen’s confusion made him distance himself from the tree without a second thought. Unlike last time, she really had the element of surprise on her side now. The chances that he had seen flame alchemy before were poor, let alone possessing the knowledge that she had the power to control them.

When he got within the flame’s range, she forced the fire to die down by changing the air’s composition and started another fire closer to her hiding place. Further away from the tree.

He bought the second, third and fourth trick as well, willing Chen to come closer to her and using the burning fire to hide her position at the same time. When he far enough from the tree, she activated the other circle she had prepared.

_ “At my signal, start running towards the tree. Until then, you need to deal with Sarah alone.” _

A small firework went off in the clear sky, attracting the ‘hunter's’ attention, as well. Penelope used that momentum to flee from her hiding place toward the tree.

This time,she didn’t look back to see if she was being followed, concentrating all of her energy on making it to the tree. She ran and ran, but the tree only seemed to be getting further. She really was terrible with speed- what would her mother have said?

A mop of blonde hair rushed towards the same goal, leaving a smaller figure behind. He was fast enough to win, Nel thought, speeding down to catch her breath and let her friend take the glory. He, at least, was good with races.

Chen overtook her from behind, but he couldn’t possibly make it in time. Nel smiled proudly. This time, her plan had worked!

… Or so she had thought.

Only one step away from the tree, Yuriy suddenly tripped, allowing Chen to reach the end first and claim their first win.

Penelope rushed to Yuriy’s side, worried for his nasty fall. She helped her friend up, looking around for the cause of his accident. And there it was, mocking them both-  the same trap he had put up for Chen last round.

“Are you badly hurt?” she asked with genuine concern. 

He looked up at her embarrassed. “No, perfectly fine. And sorry for the loss.”

“That’s what teams are for!” she reminded him. Yuriy’s face split into a grin. 

The ability to get over his loses so easily- Nel liked that about him.

As Nel started strategizing for the next match, she realised that she didn’t just like a certain ability in Yuriy, but all of him. Having him on her team was the best thing to have happened to her in awhile!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I'm late again, sorry abou thta- school is killing me. This was a shorter chapter, I know, but chapter 9 is back to the adults and it's hella long. Please look forward to it! It involves Mustang and miniskirts, Winry and drunk men and an embarrassed Riza. I dare say that is the perfect combination!  
> As always, your love keeps me writing, so feed me with it! Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


	9. Food is Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of the embarrassment games is here, from Ling's perspective. Also known as "two drunk men" and "the miniskirt incident" in my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "To the ruler, the people are heaven; to the people, food is heaven."

Food tasted better with the right people around the table.

Ling believed that wholeheartedly, which was also why he made it a rule not to eat alone and would often keep pestering Lan to dine with him. After he became the Emperor, she kept refusing, arguing that it wasn’t appropriate and so on and so forth. He refused to eat until she joined him; fainting during a meeting proved effective in persuading her. Ling had a hunch that she didn’t exactly dislike eating with him, just the two of them, as they used to when they were children and ranks weren’t dictating what they were and what they weren’t allowed to do.

Of course this came with objections from the dignitaries. “But your majesty, she is but…” Ling stopped them before they had a chance to say “a lowly aid”. That was the phrase he hated the absolute most, followed by “you need to choose a wife” as a close second.  _ Need _ and  _ choose _ were two words that didn’t sit well in the same sentence.The truth was that the wife was already chosen- all that missed was her agreement. 

Having the Emperor dramatically faint from hunger seemed to solve the problem with the dignitaries too, as they pursed their lips in a thin line and let their disapproving looks do the talking when Lan dined with him.

He couldn’t care less about their sharp gazes.

“A king only exists for his people,” Lan argued, saying that if she wasn’t seen as a good fit for him, he wasn’t seen as a good emperor either. Ling always responded that the principle went both ways: people also lived thanks to their king. What’s more, he would laugh, having people judge him yet unable to argue against the way he ruled was the best proof that he was fit to be a king.

Truth be told, those were only arguments he found to explain his choice to Lan. In reality, he knew exactly why he wanted her to be his wife- because he loved her.

The time spent with Greed taught him that it was not a sin to want something, and that there is no such thing as no such thing.

It was thanks to his unflinching belief of his that everything was possible that now, a third member of the family joined them while eating. And the food tasted even better than before with little Chen sitting on his bright red pillow, gushing about his stories and ideas.

As of late, the unfriendly mouths seemed more quiet, as well. Maybe it was because of the new trading contract with Amestris that seemed to help the country’s economy bloom or thanks to the new research Ling had invested in, related to agriculture and maximising the potential of the fertile soil, or maybe because after eight years of him being the king, people had finally gotten used to it.

He also asked Mei and Al to dine with them, when they were still living in the castle. Of course that also caused an uproar- but then again, what didn’t, with such narrow-minded people? Getting rid of tradition took time, but Ling was one patient man- he did propose three times, after all. People posed the question of how come Mei was the only sibling that ate with him, to which he casually answered, “She’s the only one who has proven worthy of the title of Princess. If you want to dine with me, try saving a country. Or even one sole life, for that matter.” He then mockingly smiled, “Also, you have to withstand my appetite.”

“But your majesty, an Amestrian?” would then come the question.

“He did more for Xing than many Xingese.” The bad mouths could not respond- Al was the kindest soul Ling had yet met and could make anyone like him.

Even if the country had gotten used to his so-called eccentric reign, he hadn’t gotten used to having to eat festive meals with the Xingese politicians. He knew it was one of his duties, and the food would have been delicious if not for the obnoxious presence of the foul-mouthed people. They were never missing a chance to talk about what “those filthy peasants” -referring, of course, to Amestrians- were up to, showing no courtesy for Princess Mei Chang. Ling had to bite his tongue not to tell them to shut up and let him enjoy his meal.

Meals in Amestris were less boring. He only visited once during Grumman’s reign. The jovial old man asked Mustang and Brigadier General Armstrong both to join and even granted a place at the table for Lan. That made easier to bare the sharp tongue of the blonde military woman, whose only match was The Flame Alchemist himself. Their fragmented discussions were full of deeper meanings and ironical remarks, which was rather amusing for the Xingese leader and his aid. He later told Lan that was the best entertainment he had had in awhile and she agreed wholeheartedly.

After Mustang became the Führer, he visited Amestris more often, usually along with Xingese dignitaries. Luckily, him and Lan dined only with the Mustangs, which felt like catching up with an old friend and made the much less fine Amestrian cuisine taste better than the Xingese delicacies.

Right now, Ling felt that his belief was reinforced by the presence of all his friends around the table. He pondered whether hearing Winry bicker with Ed was more entertaining than hearing Mustang and Armstrong’s back and forth. His turn was over, and he had also heard an embarrassing story about his wife. One could call such a day fruitful. He rewarded himself with a grape and he felt Lan getting up from her comfortable position against his chest.

“We were back in Xing…” she smirked.

A rare sight, getting to see Lan’s evil grin. She used to do that when Chen was little and made his nannies’ life a total hell. A curious child, Chen was: pulling plates off the table, asking “why” each and every time. Lan used to smile slyly whenever she overheard the nannies complain. When with his parents, Chen turned into a total angel! Ling was awfully proud of his little troublemaker, who took revenge on the dignitaries in his father’s stead.

“It happened during the time Winry spent there, developing automail,” Lan announced.

Indeed, the blue-eyed had spent quite some time in Xing, introducing the locals to automail and teaching the basics to those who seemed interested, for them to later open up shops of their own and spread the love for mechanics. 

She had spent no less than a total of nine months, scattered over the course of two and a half years, as his dignitaries kindly reminded him time and time again. “Your Majesty, but she’s staying in the castle?! She’s not a relative of yours, nor is she  _ that _ important”, they’d hiss. Ling would make sure to wave them off with his reply, “She’ll become an important link with Amestris.”

In the time spent there, Winry tried her best not to step on anyone’s toes and not to complain. Ling could see she was a bit repulsive towards the raw food, but he tried to ease off her pain by  inviting her to dine with the rest of the family. He liked her relaxed nature, not sparing him from any criticism. ‘Never the same once you break into someone’s hotel room’ Ling fondly remembered the moment.

She did her job well and the students liked her too. In a country where physical work force is vital, like Xing, automail was a welcomed addition to Mei’s healing alkahestry.

“I was walking her home from one of her lessons, since I had some duties in the same area,” Lan continued. “We were both walking towards the castle when we passed by a pastry shop.”

Lan stopped to shoot him a reproachful gaze. Food stalls became a thing in Xing after the people realised their king was a gourmand. Of course Ling encouraged any initiative wholeheartedly. 

“Anyway, Winry pleaded to stop by and grab a bite. I accepted. I have to admit, the smell was quite welcoming, and we soon found a common target- the delicious looking Zongzi in the back.”

Winry groaned upon hearing the word and almost slammed her head against the table. Seeing Lan’s pursed lips in a failed attempt to hide a smile, Ling dropped the grapes with curiosity.

“Zongzi?” the blonde Chief Administrator asked.

“Steamed or boiled glutinous rice dumplings, wrapped in bamboo or lotus leaf, with a variety of fillings,” Ling explained. _Now_ he was starting to carve dessert.

Lan continued before their hosts could make more fun of his food knowledge, “Winry said she’d order, so I leaned against the wall and waited for her to bring the food. When her turn finally came, she looked around and said, ‘Wǒ xiǎng yào liǎng gè zuìjiǔ de nánrén.’”

The storyteller had to stop because Ling, Al and Ed were choking on their laughter. Ling curled a hand around his stomach and crouched, whereas Al and Ed simultaneously wiped tears from their eyes.

The Mustangs looked perplexed, trying to decipher the cause of their laughter. 

“It is  _ not _ funny,” Winry complained.

“Oh but it is!” Ed managed in between pants, eyes red from guffaw.

“The woman behind the cashier widened her eyes and I rubbed mine, sure that I was dreaming. However, when I opened them, a confused Winry and a bewildered shopper were confirming that I had heard correctly.

‘Dǎrǎo yīxià? Excuse me?’ the seller asked.

‘Wǒ xiǎng yào liǎng gè zuìjiǔ de nánrén,’ Winry repeated, this time less sure of herself. Kindly, the shopper asked one last time for her order, and now Winry pointed to what she wanted and spoke again, in an annoyed voice and waving he hand towards the basket of zongzi. The woman followed her gaze and started laughing, then he gave her the food and we left. The other customers at the queue, as well as I, were giggling.

Once we stepped out of the shop, Winry asked me, ‘What was their deal?’

I didn’t know how to react but to laugh, ‘Do you know what you ordered?’

‘Two of these, right?’ she looked confused, pointing at the food in our hands. ‘It was written on the sign behind them.’

‘Oh… Winry, that sign said, ‘We don’t allow drunken men in here.’ That wasn’t a label.’”

Everyone at the table finally understood and the Mustangs joined the second round of laughter.

“So you ordered…”

“Two drunk men!” Ling said, no courtesy what so ever for the cook.

“Winry, you…” Al started.

“Suck at Xingese!”Ed continued, just as lacking in sympathy as the Emperor.

“Well I’m sorry you alchemy freak, but I don’t spend my whole time reading books in weird languages!” she argued, her face beet red. “How should I know what  ‘zuìjiǔ de nánrén’ means, anyway? I did not spend my time in bars!”

“You would know if you read the findings of Niu Jiamu and how he found the alkahestral circle for decomposing polypeptides while he was out with a drunk friend and wanted to help him cure a hangover,” Edward answered, angering Winry all the mre with his gigantic bag of Alchemy knowledge.

“You read that study, Brother?” Al asked, impressed.

“Of course, Ed reads anything he stumbles across, if it’s alchemy-related.” Hawkeye sighed, eyeing the man in question. Ling supposed he must have had a record of reading Alchemy books instead of filling in paperwork.

Winry suddenly got up from her place at her table and rushed upstairs, her menacing blue eyes hidden by the blonde hair. She quickly returned with one mere picture and slammed it on the table, breaking the silence and finally looking up, grinning devilishly.

Ling couldn’t make out what the picture represented, but the look on Edward’s face told him it was about to bring bad luck. Terrified didn’t even begin to describe him.

“What did I ever do to you?” he asked his wife, voice cracked under her evil look.

“You’re about to embarrass my friend!” she argued, pointing to Hawkeye.

“How does that make any sense? You’re punishing me for something I’m about to do?”

“Anything is fair in love and war,” the host repeated what seemed to have become the game’s motto.

“I’ll forbid that phrase from being said under this roof,” Ed mumbled under his breath.

The photo went around the table and finally reached Ling. He took a good look at it, trying to see what might have scared Ed- it was a simple picture of the Elric kids drawing. Nothing life threatening, if you asked Ling. Lan seemed just as confused.

“This happened about an year ago,” Winry started, ignoring her husband’s pleads.

“Fine, have it your way!” Edward humphed, crossing his arms and leaning into his chair with a frown.  _ That _ was  _ not  _ a happy man’s expression and his  _ qi _ screamed it.

“Ed had just came home from West City,” Winry continued as if never interrupted, “and since he had been gone for a whole week, the kids literally jumped on him as soon as he stepped inside. Ed, father of the year as he is, let them drag him into their games as they wished.

And so, when Yuriy told his dad he wanted to draw, Edward was all for it. For the record, I had sent him some of their drawings before, but there’s nothing quite like seeing your child do it himself.”

The parents around the table nodded. Ling always enjoyed seeing the maps Chen made for him, with how he’d want the desert to look like- all filled with forests and yellow fields of grains.

“And so Ed was watching the kids draw, when he suddenly noticed Yuriy was making an alchemical circle. Now I don’t know what exactly was so superb about it-”

“It was amazing, Winry! He had a complex design that allowed him to transmute really fine details! Like he could actually make a tiny bird! A BIRD! With feathers!” Ed interrupted his wife’s rant, bragging about his son, who was basically a genius, as far as Ling understood. “And I didn’t even teach him that!” he proudly argued.

“Amazing, Ed. But let me tell the story!” Winry snapped back at him, pushing him back towards the chair he had knocked over in his frenzee.

“Either way,” Winry cleared her throat, “Edward suddenly engaged himself in a very passionate alchemy-centric discussion with his son and totally ignored Sarah.” Here she stopped to look at him from the corner of her eye, accusingly. One more brilliant dodge from Ed in their tandem was the only response.

“Sarah kept calling out to him and she climbed on his back and hugged his neck, but all Ed could tell her was, ‘Just a moment, Sarah,’ before drifting back into his conversation.

“Annoyed, Sarah proceeded to get her revenge.” She stopped dramatically, looking at everyone around the table.

“Now, you should know Sarah has inherited the gentle hands of an automail mechanic. You have no idea how delicate one needs to be to connect the nerves and-”

“Oh we get it!” Ed brutally interrupted her. “She’s another automail freak, I know! She always breaks things apart and my watch seems to be her favourite target!” he lamented to his publicum.

“So she started scribbling on her father’s back, without him even feeling her touch,” Winry continued, pushing Ed’s face away and raising a finger to make her point.

“Now scribbling wouldn’t have been much of a problem, but I was in the middle of the complex process that cooking lunch is, just as I realised I was out of carrots. So I asked Edward to go buy me some, all the while adding new things to the list as I opened empty cupboards. I didn’t even glance his back to notice the new tattoo he had.

“Ed shrugged Sarah off his back and went shopping while the kids remained inside to help me with lunch. About an hour later, he came back and dropped everything on the table, giving me a very confused and slightly scared look.

“‘Winry, do I have anything on my back?’ He asked, turning around for me to check. As soon as I saw the doodles in red and green all over his T-shirt and shoulders, I started giggling.

“‘What?!’” Ling found himself chuckling with how well she imitated his annoyed voice.

“I do  _ not  _ sound like that!” Edward argued, making them laugh even louder. 

“You do, Brother.” Al reminded him, patting his shoulder.

“Oh, come on!” He hissed through gritted teeth. 

“I couldn’t stifle my laugh” Winry continued after the laughs died down, “and so my husband turned annoyed to me:

“‘What is it?! The shoppers asked me if I joined a gang or found a new alchemical formula! Do I have something on my back?’

Since I couldn’t answer in between my laughs and the kids were rolling over the floor, Ed took off his shirt. You should have seen how his eyes widen in shock as he turned around to us in slow motion, only to notice Sarah victoriously smiling. When he locked eyes with her, she attempted running away, but it was too late. 

He caught her and started ruffling her hair, ‘You little… I walked with this on me all over the town!’ he yelled, to everyone’s pleasure.”

“And I had even bought her strawberries… Never mind, I got my revenge too. I ate them all alone!” Ed tried easing his pain. 

“Woah, Fullmetal, who eats a little girl’s favourite food?” Mustang mocked him.

“All’s fair in love and war!” Ed snapped in return. The table fell silent as he slammed his fist against the wooden material. All gazes turned to him and Edward stood there in shock for a moment, before realising he had used the “taboo” phrase. He smirked and sat back down, enjoying the attention.

“Well, it is my turn now.” All the attention suddenly shifted on Hawkeye. Ling really did wonder what Ed could possibly have on her that was worse than the others, especially given his confident sneer. 

Without any introduction whatsoever, Edward Elric started his story.

“I was on one of my visits to central to leave a file that our much beloved Führer argued was too important to be left to post. In fact it was  _ sooo _ important that it justified my time apart from my family. Also, I had a bone with him to pick about granting me a week of holiday, with Winry having just given birth to Sarah.”

“We all know you just wanted the time off, Ed,” Winry laughed, feeling much better now that she had said her part.

“Well I’m still a great help around, right?” he proudly faced her. The anger he had felt only two minutes ago evaporated in the meantime. 

“Father of the year you are, Brother!” Alphonse laughed, but Ed didn’t let his story get deviated for much longer:

“Anyway, I am walking down the hall towards Mustang’s office when I suddenly remember I left one of the files in my bag, so I groan and turn back the half a kilometre to my office, because the Military halls have to be _ soooo  _ damn long and plain white like a hospital.”

Everyone rolled their eyes at his remark, but that didn’t mean they smile under their breaths.

“As I approach my office, I hear a faint voice. At first I think I left the radio open, but then I remember I hate listening to the radio. Maybe someone was inside my office and opened it, but what kind of document-thief listens to the radio while stealing stuff? 

“As I get closer, hand on my pocket-knife-” from the others’ looks, Ling wasn’t the only one with no knowledge of such a possession in Edward’s treasury- “It’s useful” he shrugged, before returning to the story, “I realise it’s the voice of a woman. Now she doesn’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, ‘cause she gets no responses.

“I’m three steps away when I realise she’s singing, but her voice was so awful it was hard to tell. What would a singing woman do in my office? I don’t have a maid or anything, and my team is mostly made of  men, so I clench my hand around the knife and bang the door open.

“And there, in the glory of my otherwise silent office, Hawkeye was putting her daughter to sleep with what I made out to be a kid’s song.”

After a few moments of silence and the waiting for the tension of disbelief to completely shatter, giggles erupted and then developed into laughs.

“Hawkeye-san, you sing?” Al finally spoke, giving voice to what all the others were thinking.

“I try to avoid it as much as possible,” she answered, slightly embarrassed but laughing herself, “but sometimes I just can’t.” Her eyes drifted accusatory towards her husband, who shrugged to defend himself from her dagger-throwing look.

“Why in Ed’s office, though?” Ling asked, unable to contain his curiosity. 

Hawkeye launched herself in an attempt to explain the illogical, “Nel’s nanny was on leave because of a sudden cold and I couldn’t possibly let her alone, so I brought her with me to work. I was about to have a very important meeting with Prime Minister Armstrong and if you know the first thing about her, you know she absolutely hates snot-nosed pampered kids that cry all day long. Now my daughter is none of those, but I take no risks if there’s an alternative.

ȚIt was noon anyway and sleepy Nel is unfriendly Nel, so putting her to sleep was the wise thing to do. I searched for a quiet place to do so, and knowing Ed was out to meet Roy, which usually takes a while, his office seemed like the best option. Little did I know he’d come back.”

“Why singing, though?” Lan further inquired.

“Well, Roy was in charge of putting Nel to sleep for a week while I was in the North, dealing with the Drachma matter and he taught her to fall asleep to his singing voice, which, unexpectedly, is pretty good.” She stopped to observe the others’ reactions, which could be described as ‘puzzled’, to use an Amestrian word. “From then on, she wouldn’t fall asleep any other way, even if she had to hear my terrible voice.”

“Didn’t know you sing, Colonel.” Ed remarked with a smirk, ignoring the rest of Hawkeye’s explanation.

“I grew as the only man in the family, Fullmetal. I was  _ forced _ to learn how to sing,” Mustang didn’t fight back more. Ed looked displeased with his bickering-partner and made no attempt to hide his irritation.

“Don’t worry, Roy. The next story is about the influence of your upbringing, especially in what concerns clothes,” Riza smiled coyly. At first, the man frowned in confusion, but as Riza further spoke, his face gradually went from bewildered to utterly horrified:

“Ladies and gentlemen, honest citizens of Amestris and Xing,” she started in a very polite work-tone. “I do not know if you are aware, but long before Roy Mustang ever became Führer, around the time he was Colonel, he made a promise in the presence of two of his close aids. That would be me and Brigadier Jean Havoc, at the time, Second Lieutenant. 

“We were walking down the halls of the Military when Colonel Mustang declared, ‘When I’ll be Führer, there will be changes.’” Riza made her voice tougher and hoarse, to Mustang’s terror.

“‘I’ll make all the female officers wear  _ tiny miniskirts! _ ’” she stressed her last words, lifting a finger in the air as Mustang must have probably done back then.

“I can’t believe you said that with Hawkeye there, sir!” Alphonse was the only one able to speak, holding his stomach with both hands to keep himself from bursting laughing out loud.

“This story competes with Lan’s,” Edward admitted, receiving a playful slap from Winry.

“Oh no, this is just the context,” Riza assured them.

“What the hell, Riza?” Roy asked with his jaw dropped down.

“I got the details from Rebecca,” she explained matter-of-factly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and resuming her story, pretending not to have heard her husband’s heart wrenching groan.

“Fast forward about six years later and Mr. Mustang is finally the Fuhrer, after years of hard work and having to bear with no miniskirts-wearing women. Agony it must have been, so after a week of being in the leadership position and interviews, photography sessions and tons of news report finally seen through, Mustang’s trustworthy people decided to take him out of his lethargy and help him regain his long-lost purpose.

“‘Sir?’ Havoc asked one evening. The whole team was gathered in the main office, enjoying a moment of peace and signing documents silently.

“‘Yes, Brigadier?’ the leader responded, not looking out of the mountain of paperwork he was buried under. Honestly, he wasn’t even paying the man much attention. Instead, he was contemplating whether a cup of coffee would push away the drowsiness that blurred his tired mind.

“‘Do you remember your promise?’ the voice asked again. Mustang answered with a negative humm and a lazy attempt of getting up to fix himself some coffee. The chair was so comfortable, though… 

“‘The one about women wearing tiny miniskirts?’ 

“Now he was awake. No coffee needed.

“‘What about it?’ he asked cautiously, trying to avoid stepping on any landmine his team had planted for him. Oh, he was sure there had to be one- after ten years of working with them, he knew their shenanigans like the back of his hand.

“‘We were just wondering when you’d apply that rule.’ Havoc grinned, confirming Roy’s darkest fears.

“‘What are you talking about?’ Brigadier Breda butted in. His boss simply  _ knew _ the man wasn’t as innocent as he pretended, judging from his sly eyes and the slight twitch of his lips. That combined with Havoc’s loose tongue guaranteed disaster.

“‘Well you know, Breda, before our very kind boss became the Fuhrer-’ Havoc started with the flattery, bad sign ‘-he promised he’d bring a lot of changes once he was in charge, one of which would be the mandatory introduction of tiny miniskirts in the women’s outfit.’

“‘Clearly Havoc, you must have been able to tell I was but joking,’ the black-haired tried backing out of the conversation into safe territory with a pleasant smile.

“Breda jerked his head in Mustang’s direction and whined, ‘My, what are you saying, Mr. Mustang? You mean your words were just a lie? You aren’t keeping your promise?’ The donut-lover brought a hand to his head and shook it energetically, whining in a rather loud voice, ‘Is it possible our Fuhrer isn’t a man of his word? Could this not be the only thing he lied about? What a terrifying idea!’

“Afraid others might eavesdrop, although Fuery had secured the room, Mustang put a stop to his subaltern’s complaints. ‘What are you after?’ he asked in exasperation. The latter peeked at his boss from behind his fingers and then slowly let his hands fall in his lap, revealing a truly large beam.

“‘I get it, you don’t care about that law anymore now that you’re married to Hawkeye!’”

Mustang groaned loudly, making everyone in the room pity him and laugh out loud at the same time. Even so, he had enough pride not to beg for forgiveness- he got into the game himself, after all. Ling found himself appreciating that resolve.

“‘Is that the reason?’ Colonel Rebecca asked, quirking an eyebrow at her boss meaningfully. ‘What exactly are you making Riza do, anyway?’  Legend has it that such a question made the man blush, but whether it’s true or not remains a mystery.”

One Mustang bit his lower lip at and refused to elucidate.

“‘Whatever you guys are picturing,’ he said, trying to maintain his composure and not let his men get out of control, ‘it’s wrong. We do nothing of the sort.’

“‘Yeah sure, and I am the queen of Drachma,’ Breda snorted. 

“‘What’s your point here?’

“‘Glad you asked.’ Fuery interjected, finally breathing without the fear of becoming tomato-red. ‘If you aren’t going to make that law…’

“‘Of course not, are you crazy?’ the raven-haired almost yelled, patience at his limit.

“‘Then we propose a bet,’ Havoc continued Fuery’s sentence, calmly pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up graciously. More of a reason to pour gasoline on Mustang’s fire.

“‘What bet?’ he almost bellowed, feeling a headache lifting to his head. Maybe he needed a coffee after all.

“‘If you won’t make the women wear a miniskirt… How about  _ you _ wear one yourself?’ Breda asked him, lacing his fingers together and placing them on his stomach, watching with satisfaction as his boss turned livid and then a dark shade of red in a matter of seconds.

“‘You must be kidding,’ he eventually hissed.

“‘Not at all,’ Becca answered calmly.

“‘And why would I accept that?’ Mustang crossed his arms.

“‘For a number of reasons,’ Breda answered in his tactician voice. ‘For one, because you don’t want us to lose our trust in you. Two, because the Fuhrer only has two weeks of leave a year, right? What if we gave you one week each if you go through with it?’ he smirked at the irresistible offer.

“At first, Mustang opened his mouth to deny such risky prospect of embarrassment, but Rebecca talked before he had time to react.

“‘Just think about it. Six weeks of paid leave. With Riza. I can take her out for tiny miniskirts,’ she smirked devilishly.

“Mustang closed his mouth and pondered the situation for a minute. He _ was _ extremely tired. Ever since his honeymoon, he hadn’t had a proper vacation. Which meant he hadn’t rested for real in about two years… Maybe he needed those six weeks after all. And spending time with his wife could have been a nice bonus.

“‘I accept your challenge,’ he smugly declared, receiving applauses from everyone in the office, even the usually unexpressive Falman.

“When he discovered a really short skirt in his locker the next day, he doubted his decision. Was holiday really worth going through that? he questioned himself as he examined the skirt. It really  _ was _ tiny. It probably was as long as his boxers, and he had to wonder how come women bought such outrageous clothes in the first place. Or maybe the better question was what perverted mind had allowed for such an invention to grace the world.

_ “‘You just have to wear it for a day, from the start of the program to the end, and over-hours if they will be any. Note that one of us will follow you the whole day, so we’ll know whether you respected your end of the bet or not.’  _ he recalled Breda telling him.

“Mustang smirked- he had it all planned out. He came earlier to work, so no-one would see him as he walked from the lockers to his office. He packed lunch for the first time in his life to avoid the cafeteria, and he even went as far as to check his desk wouldn’t reveal his legs to any visitator. As long as he stayed in and worked the whole day, it should have be a piece of cake.

“And thus he embarked on the risky adventure. He sneaked into his office and closed the door behind him carefully. As soon as they were out of anyone’s hearing range, the room exploded in laughter.

“‘It really suits you, sir!’ Havoc said in between giggles, watching as his boss hurried to his desk to hide his almost bare legs behind the wooden planks.

“‘Well thank you,’ he humphed, immersing in a huge pile of paperwork to prevent himself from seeing his coworkers’ mocking faces- and to hide his embarrassment. He wasn’t much surprised by their early arrival. Rather, he would have been worried if they  _ hadn’t _ came to make fun of him.

“‘Hey hey, can we call him Royana for today?’ Rebecca pretended to whisper in Havoc’s ear, but she was loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Mustang looked up from his files and declared with that impenetrable face he can muster even while saying the most stupid thing, ‘Catalina, I need you to understand something. Seeing this bet through is a matter of honor for me,and not doing so would damage my pride much more than wearing one skirt.’

“‘Tiny miniskirt,’ she corrected him, matching his serious expression.

“‘You’re the expert,’ he sighed, returning to his work. 

“The day ahead of him was going to be a long one…

“The first hurdle to jump over came into sight two hours later. 

“Mustang’s feet were starting to go numb, so he got up to stretch a bit. With the perfect timing that had always characterised him, Edward Elric barged into his office without any kind of courtesy for the Fuhrer.

“Thanks to years of military service, Mustang possessed quick reflexes that helped him sit down in a flash and greet Edward with his usual composure and teasing tone.

“Half an hour, a report and a long discussion about how Fullmetal should try to stop butting in Aerugo’s trading system- and also a failed attempt at convincing him to do so because ‘you stingy Spark, it worked out just fine!’- later, Mustang could finally loose a breath. Moving around was dangerous, he concluded.

“And so, he started massaging his feet under the table to prevent the pinching feeling in his toes.

“At lunchtime, people passed by his office and admired the hardworking men who were eating lunch in the office instead of wasting time by going to the cafeteria. ‘Yeah right. These guys just  _ want  _ to see me sneak out of this,’ Mustang bitterly thought.

“The real challenge came in the form of a blonde woman two hours before the hell would officially end.

“Prime Minister Armstrong waltzed in the office and snorted at her superior, ‘Look at you! Not even getting up to greet me now that you’re the Fuhrer. That’s why I hate men like you.’

“‘Yeah well, it’s not like I can get up even if I wanted to. And you hate men in general, you forever-alone,’ was what Mustang thought, but he didn’t exteriorise any of it. Instead, he smiled politely and gestured for her to sit down. 

“Catalina later underlined how tough it was for all of them to keep up the official front, but since Armstrong didn’t complain, she figured they had done a good enough job at it.

“The meeting with Armstrong took at least an hour, an hour of agony and pain for an almost-paralysed Mustang. Unable to even massage his numb legs now, Mustang cursed under his breath. It was as if she  _ knew _ he was going through hell and prolonged every topic by adding other questions and what-ifs.

“When she finally left the office, Mustang stretched his legs through the small space between his desk and the floor, feeling the bones crack. ‘Just one more hour and that sweet vacation is yours!’ he encouraged himself, gritting his teeth at the pain.

“The last hour went by the slowest, as he heard the clock ticking away mockingly and felt all his energy drain out of him. He prayed to God no last-minute urgent problem entered his office and that he could go home on time.

“The Gods pitied him enough to grant him at least this wish. At eight o’clock sharp- nothing in his life had he been more punctual-  Mustang checked the surroundings and locked the door of his office, sprinting to the changing rooms with Havoc, Breda, Falman and Fuery.

“‘Good job, sir!’ they laughed as they entered the lockers.

“Their laughter withered on their lips- they weren’t alone in the lockers. They had let their guards down too soon.

“Right in front of them, in all his muscular glory, stood Colonel Louis Armstrong, half-naked and staring at his Fuhrer.”

If the unit didn’t laugh back then, the seven people around the table were surely shaking the house with their laughter. Even the victim was smiling sorely.

“That remains, up to this day, the most embarrassing moment of my whole life,” he admitted, covering his forehead with his hand and sighing deeply. 

Riza placed a reassuring hand on his back. “Don’t worry, at least you got the holiday!”

“Yeah” he snorted, jerking his head up to continue the embarrassment. “Just imagine Armstrong telling you, ‘I saw nothing. It’s fine to like whatever you want, sir, I won’t judge!’” he mocked his voice, causing another storm of laughter. 

Riza, that was not any longer in charge of being the serious storyteller, joined them as well, her face getting redder as she allowed herself to relax and laugh to her heart’s content.

“The guys finally took him out for drinks and explained the situation,” Mustang brought the story to a somewhat happy end.

“Maaaaaan,” Edward finally spoke when he could articulate words again, “Hawkeye wins hands down with this one!”

“No objections there,” Ling spoke up too. He made up his mind: holidays at the Elrics were more entertaining than seeing Armstrong and Mustang fight. 

Lan nodded from next to him, although she was a strong contender. This story seemed to have made her laugh like she hadn’t in years, the frame of her body still trembling with remains of joy. It was refreshing to see her relaxed like this.

“Told you it’d blow Ed’s out of the water,” Riza proudly informed Roy, who couldn’t even bring himself to be angry at her. His  _ qi _ flew into hers seamlessly, as did everyone else’s, for that matter.

An alarm rang in the happy atmosphere, announcing a hot second meal. To his surprise, Ling only just now felt the smell of the steak.

“Just in time!” Winry clapped her hands, her anger from an hour prior evaporated into thin air.

“Looks like we won’t have time for the second round,” Alphonse noticed with a tad of sadness, but he quickly got up to help the host with the food and cheered up, probably at the thought the holidays were just starting.

“I’ll go get the kids,” Ed announced, heading towards the door as the food was coming in.

“Got ya!” the light Eastern breeze carried his voice and the giggles of the kids.

“Dad, but we were winning!” Sarah protested just as the food reached the table. 

He was positive this was the best meal he had ever had, so he took the time to savour it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I know this is terribly late, but I had a hellish week. This has to be one of my favourite collection of stories, especially the miniskirt one! I hope you guys enjoyed it too.  
> As always, kudos and comments keep me alive!


	10. Strategies of a Mechanic in Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the children's game, Sarah is doing her best to win. The youngest one always has a handicap- but she never wanted to commit to those stereotypes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost. ~Marion C. Garretty

Sarah was used to being “the little sister”. 

Not that she hated the position. On the contrary, it came with many advantages- the best piece of cake was always handed to her; if she had done something bad she could blame it on her big brother- Though sooner rather than later she was found out- and she was just lucky enough that her sibling was not all that passionate about automail, so she could monopolise her mother’s workplace.

She also knew she was loved by her entire family and all the new people she met liked her -‘Oh, such a lovely child!’ ‘Sweety, you can already use a wrench?’ ‘Oh she can, unfortunately!’ Her father would always pop up beside her to answer, half proud and half worried about his future. Yuriy also happened to be a loveable brother, when they weren’t competing for the attention of their parents or friends, in which case he gave her no age-advantage.

In fact, she liked that. She appreciated that Yuriy never called her “little sister”, but simply “Sarah”, and he never told her things like “You’re too little for this.” He saw her as a real threat in any game they played and he never made any effort to get down to her level or anything else. He treated her for who she was, and she liked that. So did her parents, always explaining her whatever she asked. Well, apart from some of the photos in the hallway that seemed to be a huge secret or something.

But when Chen used the expression, “We won through a strike of luck” she knew she still had a lot to learn. She made a mental note of the expression.

“I think I have an idea,” Sarah spoke up, trying to take Chen’s mind off what they had done wrong or how to improve themselves at being _ it _ . That wasn’t important now. 

“I’m small,” she smirked like her dad often did, feeling that might have been the first time she had ever proudly used the word. He quirked an eyebrow at her statement. “I can pretty much fit anywhere. Or  _ behind  _ anything.” 

Confusion was slowly replaced with a smile. “That might work. But-” he frowned yet again “-how do we make sure they don’t peek? They used alchemy on us, but what do we have on them?”

“Can’t we just trust them?” Sarah hated having to take into account all the small inconveniences.

“No, we should never trust people easily. That’s what dad always says.” 

Sarah wondered why one would ever teach someone something like that. Wasn’t it much easier to trust the others and deal with it of it didn’t work?

“Then what do we do?” she asked instead, frowning herself. Arguing with Chen would only take their two minutes away.

“How about we run in a certain direction to make them think we went there, but then we quietly change hiding places?” he suggested after a moment.

“Alright, that could work,” she agreed, just in time to hear aunt Mei yell:

“Time’s up!”

Sarah and Chen locked eyes and fistbumped before the counting began. At first, Chen had seemed pretty unused to such gestures, but now he was the one to initiate it, which made Sarah weirdly happy.

After the encouragement gestures, they both went in opposite directions, running around like crazy. Sarah asked herself for how long she was supposed to keep that up, feeling her knees weaker and her muscles tired. She turned around, searching for her teammate. She saw him peeking from around the house and giving her a thumbs-up. That’s when she realised it was fine to duck behind her new hiding place, or rather, person. Aunt Mei.

She was pretty proud of her idea of hiding behind the arbitre. She wasn’t allowed to say if she saw the others’ refugees and Sarah was just small enough not to be discovered unless someone happened to check there. From the look her aunt gazed her, she was also impressed with the little girl, causing Sarah to grin widely and cling onto her legs.

“Are you readyyyy?” her brother’s voice echoed in the small garden, covering Penelope’s.

“Yeeees!” Chen screamed back. Sarah muttered along, as to not give away her hiding place. She was thankful her friend had even thought that through and had covered her voice.

Sarah was glowing with the prospect of bringing them a victory with this tour around. Now that she was thinking about it, they made a pretty good team. It was only her second time meeting Chen, but they got along really well. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but Chen treated her differently- in a good way. It bugged her that she couldn’t tell what exactly, though

Sarah shook her head energetically and returned to the task at hand- winning the game! She peeked from behind her aunt’s legs. Her brother had adventured in the ‘lion’s den’, to use one of Chen’s phrases- behind the house, where Chen was hidden.

Sarah was a bit worried about this whole situation. Penelope was still on standby near the tree, guarding the place. She could reach it in a few seconds, but if Nel saw her it was game-over. And as for Chen’s odds to win… Sure, sensing the  _ qi  _ or whatever Chen called it was useful when being  _ it _ , but when hiding? She doubted its efficiency and his ability to outrun Yuriy. She didn’t want to judge him, but he was pretty skinny and her brother was a great runner.

_ “You know, I can hide in a place and keep changing my position if I hear them come for me,”  _ he had told her before the game started, and now she prayed he was right.

Instead of relying on him yet again, she wanted to do it herself this time around. To trick Nel and win. But how? 

She scanned her surroundings, trying to find anything useful. Sarah finally found it in the form of a stone a few centimetres away. She quickly picked it up and threw it a few feet from the tree. Nel didn’t seem to notice it though, so she looked for something bigger. After a few moments, she found a bigger stone and threw it with all her power.

Nel whipped her head around at the deaf sound of the stone banging against the soil. 

‘Bingo!’ Sarah congratulated herself. She waited for Nel to check her surroundings yet again and head towards the source of the sound. Luckily enough, the stone was close to a barrel that could have made for a good hiding spot, so it picked Nel’s curiosity all the more.

Once she was far enough from the tree, Sarah stepped carefully out of aunt Mei’s shadow and started running for the tree. If she had been lucky enough for Trisha to be occupied with a small butterfly until now, she ran out of luck the moment she started her sprint. Her ran had apparently scared the butterfly, and now that Trisha no longer had a playmate, she giggled excitedly at her cousin. Consequently, Nel also turned around -even if she hadn’t yet reached the pebble- and saw the target escaping her grasp.

But Sarah couldn’t give up! Not when Chen had trusted her with this! And so she begged her legs to bring her to the tree before Nel. Each second brought her closer to the tree- but it also brought Nel closer to her.

When she realised she wouldn’t be able to touch the wood unless she did something reckless, Sarah closed her eyes and closed in the distance with the longest jump in her- granted, short- lifetime.

Maybe too long for her still bad sense of balance, she realised too late.

“Sarah, are you okay?” Penelope rushed to her side, forgetting the game and tending to her friend who had greeted the tree with her cheek in her rush to win. Sarah got up slowly and rubbed her scratched face, opening her eyes and blinking:

“Did I touch it?”

Nel blinked blankly a few times. “The tree? Yeah, I guess you did.” Her face broke into a smile. “But more importantly, does it hurt?”

“So we won!” Sarah exclaimed, ignoring the question and jumping back up with new-found strength.

“Yeah,” her friend nodded, touching her cheek. “Does it hurt?”

“Ow!” she answered, but the cry of hurt quickly turned into one of happiness. “We won! Cheeen, we wooon!” she yelled. 

Her cousin was sprinting towards her from behind the house, followed closely by her brother. “Good job!” he congratulated her with a beam that quickly turned into concern. “What happened to your face?”

“I paid for our victory!” she joked, brushing off his concern.

“Sarah, are you okay?” the other boy also asked, voice hoarse in what she recognised as his ‘panic-mode’.

“Yes brother,” she said in a monotonous tone, tired of everyone asking her that and fawning over such a small injury. 

She turned to look at her partner, ready to smack him if he was about to ask her yet again what her condition is, but instead, she was met with a fist he hold out to her. She grinned -and that  _ hurt _ \- but met his fist halfway in the air anyway.

As their fists collided, she got that feeling again. The hunch that he was different, in a way that both fascinated and annoyed her, haunted her again.

Aunt Mei rushed to her side to treat her injury, but Sarah refused to let her do alchemy -or whatever her dad called alkahestry. Weren’t they the same thing? “No. Scars are like badges of honor, Aunt Mei! And besides, Brother has one too!” she argued, pointing to his scratched knee from the earlier fall.

Her Aunt laughed at their antics and shrugged. “Okay,” she agreed, but not before adding, “But your mother will put that stingy cream on you if she sees that!”

Sarah shivered at the thought, but she remained firm on the position. If her Brother had one, why should she not? This was a matter of honor and she wasn’t about to let one mere little stingy cream beat her! She shook her head, fueling her Aunt’s quiet laugh and proudly crossing her arms over her chest  to make her stance on the matter clear.

“Now then, time for revenge!” Yuriy cracked his knuckles and threw his sister a fierce look. She returned it with the same fire in her eyes, ready to take the challenge on and win yet again.

They were about to start their two-minute strategizing meeting when their father waltzed into the playground, stopping them dead in their tracks by catching Sarah by her waist and raising her up high. “Got ya!” he declared, spinning her around. 

“Dad, but we were winning!” she giggled.

He let her down at this declaration and quirked an eyebrow to get more details out of her.

“Me and Chen are playing against Brother and Nel and we were winning!” she proudly announced.

“Technically-” Chen interrupted her “-we would win even if the game stopped here. It 2-1 for us.” He offered her one of his rare smiles and she mirrored it.

“Good job, kiddos!” her dad congratulated them, ruffling their heads.

“Oh yeah? We have such a good strategy we’ll win the next one!” Yuriy approached them with a determined look. Sarah just stuck her tongue out at him.

“Uncle Ed, why are you here? Do you want to play, too?” Nel asked with the talent of a person that has mastered the art of ignoring the bickering siblings.

“No, I came here to take you in for lunch, in fact.”

“No way, you can’t, dad! We still have to win!” Yuriy yelled, whipping his head around to give his dad the puppy-dog eyes.

“No way we’d let you win, right Chen?” Sarah looked at her teammate for confirmation, but she found him gazing at the house. Sarah followed his look and saw her mom and Uncle Al setting the table. 

After a long pause, he turned to her with pleading eyes, “But lunch does sound good.” 

Her dad broke out into laughter, as did Aunt Mei, who had joined them without anyone noticing. 

“We can beat them afterwards?” Chen’s statement turned into a question for Sarah’s approval. 

She stared at him for a moment before sighing, “Sure, I guess.”

“You are the best, Sarah!” he said as if she had just saved her life, skipping towards the house as he spoke.

“For real, Chen?” Yuriy disappointedly asked, running after the guy to tell him, “You’re letting food beat you?”

“They’re hopeless!” Nel told the Sarah, who simply shrugged. Penelope ran to catch up with them, yelling, “Slow down, wait for us!”

“Yo Sarah!” her father called her, stopping her just as she was about to join them, “what happened to your cheek?”

“I needed to win,” she stated matter-of-factly

“And that was the price you paid, huh?” 

She nodded, happy that at least her father got her. He always did!

“Your mom won’t be too happy about it, though!” he added, scratching his head. He grabbed her by her armpits to raise her up to look her in the eyes. “If you act cutely though, she will probably forgive you.”

“Can I ask her more about your leg?” Sarah innocently questioned, knowing the way to her mother’s heart better than anyone.

“That’s my girl!” Edward praised her. He then suddenly got serious and his eyes glinted with mischief.  “Now cling on tight, ‘cause we’re about to outrun those guys!”

Sarah yelped in contentment as they raced against the wind, and she yelled, “Behold!”

They slowly passed by Penelope and reached the two boys who were running shoulder to shoulder. It occurred to her again that Chen was different as she watched his back, but she figured it wasn’t that big of a deal after all. Weren’t Aunt Lan and Uncle Ling different, too? Maybe it was because they were Xingese.

“Edward, what the hell are you doing?!” her mother yelled as her dad ducked in time at the entrance door, so that Sarah wouldn’t bump her head on the ceiling. He put her in the chair in the blink of an eye.

“Nothing~” he sing-song, raising his hands up in the air to show his innocence.

“Turkey!” Chen let out happily, stopping any argument that was about to start with his excitement.

Everyone laughed and Uncle Ling ruffled his hair, “Yeah, now stuff yourself before it disappears!”

Or maybe it was just because every single person is different in their own way, Sarah concluded as she engaged herself in a new game- who got the best turkey part?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> This was a shorter in-between chapter because I kinda wanted to pin down some things about Sarah as a character. Next chapter is Almei fluffiness though, as well as paternal!Roy, so I hope you'll stick around to it!  
> As always, kudos and comments keep me allive guys!


	11. On Mornings Spent Quietly Observing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Mei chapter was mainly focused on her outlook on the situation at hand, so here you go- this is Trisha's perspective of her mom and dad, which means AlMei and fluff! Also this has one of my favourite headcanons, namely that Armstrong has a soft spot for children and Nel's too adorable for my good!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interestingly, mint even had a place in romantic Greek mythology. According to the myth, Minthe was a beautiful wood nymph who caught the eye of Hades. Hades’ wife, Persephone, became enraged with jealousy over her husband’s wandering eye and turned Minthe into a crawling plant. Hades wanted the object of his affection back but couldn’t reverse the spell, so he made Minthe smell good so that she would always be noticed and never taken for granted.  
> Sweet-smelling it is, and with varieties that range from the popular peppermint to apple mint and even chocolate mint, there are many scents that offer a wealth of health benefits.  
> Mint is a symbol of protection of illness and warm feelings, as well as precious moments.

No matter who tried telling her there was a bed more comfortable than her father’s arms, Trisha knew they were lying. 

She was now happily giggling, cuddled in her dad’s arms, having found a cosy position and taking in her new surroundings. She gave up soon afterwards, though- it was way too noisy. In one corner, four children were fighting over food and in the another, her Uncle was fighting as to why the guests had bigger portions. She didn’t really get what the fuss was all about- milk was the best food ever, no need for fancy dishes.

She was glad her dad seemed to agree, as he laughed sheepishly, “Brother, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Of course it does, Al! It’s a matter of principles!”

Too many overlapping voices for her to follow afterwards- aunt Winry yelled, then the man with short black hair said something about flames and the blonde woman next to him started chuckling for unknown reasons.

Instead of trying to decipher the lyrics of the chorus, Trisha found great interest in the metal thing on the table that had three stingy parts and one long tail.

“That’s a fork, sweetheart,” her father explained with a whisper, rocking her on his knee.

“Fo?” she asked curiously, raising it and wiggling it in the air under his nose.

“Fork,” he repeated, gently pushing it down. “And it’s dangerous, because it’s really spiky.”

She let it rest on the table and stared at it intensely. They usually ate with chopstick, much more slender and less dangerous. Why would someone need something so heavy and less safe?  Truly mysterious, this fork-thingy. 

She stared at the empty table next to it, confused. She could have sworn she saw something similar, with just one, much wider, spiky thing, but it had vanished. 

She turned to her father with questioning eyes. “O’her fo?” she frowned, but he simply shook his head. She then turned to her mother in search for answers, but she also only had the fork-thingy on the table

In moments like these, it annoyed Trisha that she couldn’t talk and explain her thoughts. Instead, she just sighed innerly, shutting up and trying to find something else to do in the meantime. She settled for making a mental list of things she’d say when she’d be finally able to talk properly.

Firstly, she’d tell her parents she loved them, because she really did. Both of them. They were always so calm and loving towards her, explaining the same things several times. When her mother hadn’t yet returned to her work, she used to spend all day long with her.

They would normally wake up early in the morning to see dad off to work. He’d kiss mom and plant a soft kiss on Trisha’s cheek, which she’d reward with a happy baby chuckle. She could see how his heart warmed up and sometimes, he even told them he found it hard to leave home when his girls were there, but he had to when Mei showed him out of the door and blew off a kiss in his direction.

“You know, Daddy’s making people happier at work,” her mom would tell her as he reluctantly closed the gate and shot them a last glance, waving at his family. There was pride and warmth in her voice as she guided Trisha’s hand to wave back.

After he left, Trisha would often pout or almost start crying, so her mother had to be creative and keep her busy. Sometimes that translated to them cooking- actually, Mei cooking and Trisha pointing towards what she wanted in her meal from her baby chair. She was also the one who tasted the soup and gave the ‘ok’ in the form of a gush.

Other times, they drew. Or rather, she tried drawing and her mother guessed what it was that she doodled there. It was easy most of the times, though- Trisha mostly drew a huge heart in the middle of which rose her family.

Barely were the morning activities over, that the doorbell began to rang persistently. Saying Mei was on maternity leave was a figure of speech. The clients kept coming home, filling the living room with the nasty smell of flesh blood and filling the otherwise calm air with cries of pain. Her mother wouldn’t have taken it any other way, though. Trisha knew that while she was sleeping, Mei worked on developing alkahestral circles to cure colds and other diseases. 

She often mumbled unintelligible phrases to herself, like ‘Too many antibodies can kill,’ to which Trisha stared blankly. Her mom would only realise she was up after the baby had been quietly observing for a couple moments and then she’d put the medicine books aside.

Trisha often woke up before her mother realised, but she loved silently watching her and trying to piece together what she was researching. It was like a puzzle- telling what her mother was thinking of behind the knitted brow and quick lip-talking.

Most of the patients that entered their house were nice people. They always had a little something for her, like a cute keychain or some toys that made sounds when she pushed their buttons. Those kept her busy during the control, but she always looked up when her mother would perform alkahestry- she loved the blue sparks that came from within the floor. It was mysterious- the carpet never lit up when she touched it. It only reacted to her mother and father’s hands.

Each client wanted to pay the doctor for her efforts, but she never accepted it. After a long trade, she’d agree to take half of the pay since arguing drove her to exhaustion. 

That was the thing she loved most about her mother- her calm. She never argued if she could avoid it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t voice her opinions, either- quite on the contrary, she said whatever was weighing on her mind. Trisha made a mental note of telling her about that, too.

When she was finally done with her appointments for the day, it was already time for lunch. Now, lunch happened to be one of Trisha’s favourite moments of the day, because it was right before her nap, so her mom would tell her stories to get her in mood for sleep. Also, it was great bonding time- a little secret between women that her dad didn’t need to know about.

She always told Trisha just the stores she wanted to hear- those about her father and his Brother, and those about them when they were kids. She also told her a bit about Uncle Ling and her cousin Chen, and she talked about Aunt Lan and their time together in Xing.

Xing was a name that often appeared in Mei’s stories, and it apparently held a high significance to both her and her dad, but she never quite understood why. She had never been there herself, but she was longing to discover the place where most of the stories took place. 

Yeah, that would be the second thing she’ll do when she’ll grow up. And she’d also ask for more stories, because they were never enough. Maybe she’d ask for her favourite stories to be repeated, like the one with her mom saving a certain Riza -she supposed it could have been the one sitting across the table from her right this instant- or with her dad saving his Brother.

At an unfortunate, yet inevitable, point in time, Trisha yawned against her will. She knew she couldn’t trick her mother, even if she often cried for more. As calm as Mei was, she was also very strict. No meant no and Trisha had no chance of changing her mind.

With such a zen attitude, her mother was able to block all of Trisha’s fits and cries, and the baby would have to give in sooner rather than later and accept that, after all, she needed the nap. After about half an hour of being noisy, she’d let herself be calmed by the small song her mother hummed for her while swinging her in her arms, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. When she gently laid her in the bed, Trisha would watch her sit in the rocking chair next to her and grab her medicine book and a notebook. She fell asleep to that calming image.

That was also the sight that enveloped her when she woke up. Trisha always noticed how the pile of read pages grew thicker and the layer of pages not yet written thinner, or how the cover of book changed or the ink-bottle emptied. 

She wanted to be able to read as well. She was curious as to what was so captivating about those hieroglyphs and to being able to decipher them was a test she was more than ready to raise up to. Something that had the power to keep her mother busy for hours on end was bound to be valuable. She decided to add “asking to learn how to read” on her to-do list. 

Once she was up, the second half of the day commenced. Sometimes they spent time in the garden, plucking weeds or picking up plants that her mom used to make some green juice for her patients. The smell was nice, the color not too inviting though.

Trisha loved their garden. It was a whole other world- evergreen, always buzzing with insects and chirps of birds, populated by her most favourite plant: mint. She liked mint for how it was less colorful than the others, but smelt so much more intense and could change the whole taste of a mix with just a leaf. 

Trisha was always told she herself was like mint- small, but changing the lives of everyone she met. She had no idea what that meant just yet, but it sounded good. However, she didn’t put it on the list of things she wanted to hear more about- she had a feeling she needed to discover it herself.

When they weren’t in the garden, they went outside to buy groceries or simply to wander around the park. Mei would wrap Trisha up in a Xingese chal and tighten it around her waist- that was all the preparations they needed to launch themselves into the unknown world. 

One of their adventures was visiting the market for fresh vegetables or fruit. Mei was always greeted with warm smiles and was offered some of the best products, which she accepted with a beam and kind words. Even among the shoppers, her reputation was excellent, Al would explain.

Another adventure they embarked on was going to the local library, where her mother could replenish her books supply. Sometimes, Trisha also found a few colorful books that piqued and shoved them in her mom’s face, beginning to borrow them. By the end of the visit, she’d proudly hold the books in question and page through them, pointing to different drawings her mother would explain.

Their adventures always came to a close around the time the sun went down, painting the sky with the colors of the end and evening settled in. They’d enter their home with full hands and prideful beams, knowing they had accomplished their goals.

While preparing dinner, Mei would assist her daughter with deciphering the words next to the drawings. That was, when Trisha resisted the curiosity of trying to bite a raw potato, a pleasure she was denied of. They often had arguments concerning that matter. Mei won in the end, as always.

Once the food was prepared, both mother and daughter waited for Alphonse to come home. He usually made it in time for dinner, but ever so often, it happened that he was held back at work. He’d then come home to find a sleeping Mei spread in her rocking chair with a quietly snoring Trisha cuddled against her belly.

It was usually Trisha who woke up when she sensed her father’s presence, her mother all too tired to budge. Even so, Mei seemed subconsciously aware of her husband's presence, for a smile bloomed on her face when he tucked some rebel strands of hair back in her bun and kissed her forehead.

He then noticed his daughter was awake and brought a finger to his lips. She smiled at him and he took her in his arms, almost always failing at not disturbing his wife in the process.

“You’re home?” she muttered, rubbing her eyes drowsily and suppressing a yawn. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” he apologised.

“No big deal.” She got up and smooth her clothes. “Let’s eat, dinner’s getting cold!” she said, pecking his cheek and going on ahead to set the table.

After dinner and stories from his workplace, which often involved calls from his boss or unhappy Xingese, Al dedicated all of his free time to her.

While her mom washed the dishes, even though her dad always insisted he’d do it himself later, they usually played together. Trisha chose the game- not that it was much of a choice for her. They either ran after the ball or she threw it at a tower he built out of wooden blocks and try to destroy it.

Once her mother was also done, the three of them would gather in the living room and chit-chat. Trisha grabbed a doll and sat quietly in her father’s arms, listening to the conversation while examining her toy.

“Hawkeye called today,” he once told Mei, who quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Bad news?” she asked, slightly worried.

“Yeah. I think I might need to go to Central.”

Trisha jerked her head up to look her dad in the eyes, but he was watching Mei intently. Now Trisha didn't know exactly what this Central place was, but it wasn’t home, that much was certain.

“What happened now?”

“Brother called Armstrong and told her he education should be obligatory and free at least for the first four classes,” her dad sighed, causing her mom to burst out laughing. This angered Trisha- weren’t they seeing the real problem here? _ Her dad was about to go away! _

She grabbed his shirt and forced him to look at her with a growl. That manage to attract both parents attention, as they were met with her crying face.

“What happened, Trisha?” her dad asked concerned, making her even angrier that she couldn’t talk. How could they be so nonchalant about him leaving?

“She’s angry.” Mei stated, reading her  _ qi _ like always.

“Why?” her dad asked, dumbfounded. Both women stared at him, vexed with how dense he could be. It took him a minute to realise, “About my leave?” He looked at his daughter, who simply started crying louder.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart!” he hugged her tightly, explaining, “I’ll only be gone for about a week or maybe even less.” It wasn’t  _ only _ a week- that was outrageously long! 

She made a mental note of adding ‘being able to argue back’ to her to-do list.

“It’s for work.” he tried calming her down, rocking her on his knee. “I have to, Trisha! You see, my work affects all the eastern citizens!” _ It affected her too! _ “How would you feel if your dad would ignore someone who desperately needed help?”  _ She _ _ needed him desperately! _ “Would you like me to turn my back on others?” he finished in a soothing voice, pulling apart to look at her.

She knew she wouldn’t. She loved her dad because he was kind and didn’t only appreciate him being like that towards her, but towards everyone. She stopped whining. That didn’t mean she liked the situation, however.

“I’ll bring you back new toys,” he seized the opportunity to persuade her.  _ That did sound good… _ “And new books!”  _ Perfect! With drawings? _ Her face lit up.

“Hey hey now, what about me?” her mom asked, putting up a good act of annoyance.

“Oh I’m sorry Mei, but I think Trisha’s presents might fill my whole luggage!” Al exclaimed, exchanging a look of complicity with his daughter, who smiled.

“Fine then, you cook by yourself from now on!” Mei humphed, playing their game. Trisha was giggling when her dad adopted a pleading voice.

“Oh come on Mei, don’t be like that! We love you! Right, Trisha?”

The baby yelped in response, and her mom peeked at them from the corner of her eyes, hiding her smile.

“I’ll consider it,” she teased them.

That night, Trisha went to sleep earlier than usual. Crying always exhausted her. She was now somehow at peace with the idea of her dad leaving, but she knew she’d still shed a few tears when the train left. She was searching for a comfortable position in bed, when she heard her parents whisper.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine? I mean, alone with Trisha for a week…” Al asked, worried.

“Of course!” Mei chirped, confident and trying to ease some of the concern that caused his brow to crease.

“Mei, we’re talking about a long time! You’ll be exhausted by the time I come back!” he insisted, taking her hand in his.

“Alphonse, you always worry too much! I can take care of myself just fine, and we’ll be waiting here for you,” she responded, touching his forehead with gentle fingers. “Now stop frowning or you’ll look like an old man!” she laughed.

He chuckled and kissed her shortly. “You’re amazing,” he eventually admitted, leaning on his pillow and relaxing, pulling Mei’s head on his chest. She hugged him back and laughed against his shirt.

“You too. Come back safe, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” he answered before sighing, “Though making sure Brother won’t throw himself at Armstrong’s throat is gonna be a real challenge.”

“That’s Edward- never one boring moment with him.” Mei joked. Her attempt was successful- Alphonse giggled in return.

“Well, he is right this time,” he resumed, this time serious. “I even asked Hawkeye-san to consider naming a Minister of Education, but I doubt Armstrong is gonna take it well.”

“Why not?” Mei frowned, her voice slightly annoyed. “It’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, but she’ll be against it because of the way it was proposed. Ed talked with Teacher about it and then they proposed it to Mustang without getting through Hawkeye or Armstrong first. Of course she snapped… And once she sets her mind on something, you know her… ” Alphonse let his sentence unfinished.

“Another case of wounded pride,” Mei completed, patting her husband’s arm. “Good luck with mediating a decent discussion.”

“Thanks. Though I doubt it’ll be decent, even with all the luck in the world. You know how Brother and Teacher can get. Hawkeye also sounded terribly tired today, and she mentioned something about Mustang needing another round of shoulder-massaging, just like when Winry was pregnant.”

Mei stifled a laugh and instead asked, “What me to pack some painkillers?”

“Please do.” Al sounded very tired.

“You can call whenever you feel it’s too much for you, okay?” she murmured. He hummed in response and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

“I will. And I’ll miss you.”

“We will too.”

It was at times like these that Trisha didn’t mind being unable to express herself. She actually liked quietly observing her parents like that. She also liked waking up before them and watching them sleep contently, before her hunger got unsupportable and she needed to wake Mei up.

About ten days later, her dad was back home, awfully tired but with new games for Trisha and an invitation to go to Resembool.

Trisha finished putting together her list and looked around, disappointed in the guests- they hadn’t even managed to finish three quarters of the turkey, and that after making such a fuss about an eating contest.

Looking around for entertainment possibilities, Trisha spotted something curious.

“Dada!” she called, tugging on his shirt to make him look at her. She then pointed towards a bowl on the table and said, “Ada! Ada yummy!”

Everyone looked at her, but she didn’t felt intimidated in the slightest. That looked just like her mother’s salad, the one everyone in the family loved, and she needed to point out such an amazing fact.

“Yes, that’s just like mom’s salad!” her dad encouraged her, also clearing some of the doubts the others were probably having.

“She can’t possibly eat salad!” Winry exclaimed, knitting her brows.

“Oh no,” Alphonse smiled. “She does know however that I always praise that, so she must have some kind of list of things she wants to eat.” That was her dad, always guessing her thoughts. “Trisha, you might want to add Winry’s apple pie onto that list,” he said, stirring her curiosity.

“Oh, I will actually make one for dessert!” Winry clapped her hands together, happy there were people who enjoyed her food.

“Yey!” Edward rubbed his tummy.

“You need to give me that recipe, Winry!” Mei told her friend.

“Sure, I can show you after the meal,” her Aunt nodded.

“Ada!” Trisha repeated, not willing to let the subject go, because something bugged her- the bowl was rather full, so that meant her dad hadn’t eaten much Why was that?

“You can’t eat that yet, Trisha!” her dad calmly answered, but she shook her head.

“Dada ada!” She checked her father’s face, who was staring at her, not getting what she wanted.

“Al, I think she might want you to eat it,” the Roy-guy surprisingly understood what she wanted, and she nodded thankfully.

“Oh. But I have already eaten a bowl, Trisha,” she still pointed to the spoon, unwilling to drop the matter until she was sure he had tasted it. He sighed and took a bite, confirming it was delicious. The mission was now accomplished.

“I’m amazed you got that, General Spark,” her Uncle noted.

“Talking out of experience,” he sighed, glancing sideways at his wife. “Riza seems to have taught Penelope that I don’t take care of my diet, so my daughter fed me whenever she got the chance.”

“The donut incident?” the girl in question perked up from the kids’ discussion, eyes lit up.

“The donut incident.” her father laughed, turning heads to him. He explained mysteriously, “Extracts out of Nel’s adventurous childhood.”

“Let us hear!” Mei ushered him to tell the story, feeding his ego. Trisha figured a story was as good as any other way to spend time, so she set back and listened.

“It happened when Nel was about Trisha’s age. I was in my office, filling in paperwork as usual…”

“Procrastinating as usual,” Riza corrected him, but he decided to ignore her and the nods around the table and continue.

“So I was doing my job when Riza suddenly rushed in with Nel in her arms and asked me hurriedly, ‘Roy, do you have a minute?’

“Of course I said yes. It seemed rather strange to me for her to be at work with Nel. As far as I knew, she was supposed to have a free day, which she decided to spend with her daughter.

“She made her way to my desk under everyone’s bewildered look and handed me our daughter. ‘Sudden change of plans,’ she explained. ‘I have a meeting with the Drachmas in ten. You look after Nel.’ She dropped a bag on the table. ‘Everything you need is in here: diapers, milk, a change of clothes.’

“‘Wait wait, hold on! What about the nanny?’ I asked, frankly concerned of having such a task dumped on me during working hours.

“‘Sick leave,’ she responded, bending over to kiss Nel. ‘Now you be good and take care of daddy.’

“‘Just who’s taking care of who?’ I asked annoyed, already hearing Havoc laugh behind me.

“‘Thank you, Roy.’ She kissed me too and then stormed off to the meeting, informing me as she closed the door, ‘I'll Be back in two hours.’ She then muttered, ‘I hope.’

“‘Brilliant!’ I sighed, looking at my girl- she was adorable- still is- but I already had a lot on my mind at the moment, what with the Xingese trading laws and Aerugo worrying about the competition we posed.

“‘Come on Sir, what’s with the pout? Look how cute she is!’ Fuery said, coming to my desk and making weird faces to amuse Penelope. Havoc broke into another fit of giggles, which made Nel stand up in my lap and look over my shoulder to him questioningly.

“‘You know, little one, your dad’s supposed to finish some documents for a really scary lady in less than an hour,’ he explained, gently taking the little girl from me. ‘Now we don’t want his head bitten off, so we’ll look after you for a while.’

“‘Thanks.’ I acknowledged, returning to my papers. With the power only Nel can grant me, I managed to be done in the next 30 minutes, while all my office was fawning over my daughter and how cute she could be as if they had no hundreds of other chores to do.

“When I looked up from my work, Fuery seemed to have already become best friends with Nel, Catalina and Havoc were just as head over heels for her and would have done anything to please her, whereas Jane was scribbling in her notebook whatever Fuery shared about his knowledge of children. That guy is not only a tech wizard, but apparently has a dozen siblings that he looked after and can charm any baby. Only Falman was diligently doing his job, as per usual.

“I got up from my seat and reclaimed my daughter, who had been pampered up to now. She giggled happily.

“‘Come on Mustang, you have her every day!’ Catalina pouted, extending her hands and whining, “Give her baaaack!”

“‘I agree with her, Sir!’ Jane, usually the rational one, took Catalina’s side. ‘It’s an educational experience.’.

“‘She may be adorable, but if anything happens to her, I’m held responsible,’ I answered them, taking her back to my seat.

“Breda chose that exact moment to walk into the office, a bag of donuts in one hand and a donut in the other. He freezed in the doorframe, staring blankly at the scene- his superior was sitting at his desk with an eight-month old in his arms, and all the other members of his team, excluding Falman, were gathered around him like birds over bread.

“‘I go out for twenty minutes, and I come back to see a play of the Christmas scene!’ Breda commented as he shut the door.

“As Havoc was filling him in, Nel got up in my arms and started pointing to Breda’s bag. ‘Do!’ she yelled, starting to jump on my knee, ‘Do do do!’ she repeated again and again, making everyone look at her, then at the donuts and back at her.

“‘She has a love for donuts or something?’ Catalina asked confused, but then Penelope interrupted her to look at me and tug my military uniform.

“‘Da, do!’ she said again and I finally understood what my daughter wanted.

“‘Penelope, those are Breda’s,’ I explained, but she frowned at me and raised a finger.

“‘A do.’ she said seriously, making everyone gawk at us.

“‘Not possible, honey. He’ll get angry,’ I tried explaining, but it was no use. The crease on her forehead deepened as she repeated her request.

“‘Sir, might you fill me in on your discussion about  _ my _ donuts?’

‘“Breda, please put that bag on my desk.’

“‘Is this your round-about way of telling me you want my food?’

“‘Not at all. I simply think my daughter is under strict orders from my wife.’

“Everyone stared at me. Curiosity drove Breda to eventually bring the bag over. As soon as it touched the desk, Nel grabbed a donut from it and shoved it into my face. When I opened my mouth to talk, she made me take a bite and chew on it.

“‘Basically,’ I explained after swallowing, ‘Riza got it in Nel’s head that I don’t eat regularly and that I don’t look after my health as I should. So I guess this is her way of taking care of me,’ I patted her head and she smiled proudly.

“‘Not that donuts are the best meal.’ Polster commented.

“‘For your information, I’ve lived just fine with donuts up to now,’Breda exclaimed indignantly.

“‘And beer, Breda, don’t forget the beer,’ Catalina laughed, punching him friendly.

“Penelope ushered me to take another bite of the donut, and I complied. When Breda snored at us, she pushed the bag towards him apologetically.

“‘It’s fine, kid,’ he patted her head warmly.

“Nel yelped happily, and thanked him by holding out a donut for him as well. 

“Breda bit it and chewed, ‘I swear, it’s even better if you feed me.’

“‘Careful,’ I warned him, making everyone burst into laughter. Happy that she was appreciated, Penelope also offered to feed the others, and so we started the ‘Eating Donuts with Penelope Club’, as Falman decided to name it after admitting Nel was a sweet girl and joining us as well.

“We were still at it when Armstrong entered the office and humphed at the sight. ‘You bunch of dilly-days, I don’t remember you being paid to eat donuts and hang out with a child.’

“‘Prime Minister Armstrong, here is the paperwork,’ I officially told her, making abstraction of the group of adults that were being fed by a baby. 

“Nel found the courage to offer her a bite of the donut as well. The blonde scary forever-alone simply ignored her, but my daughter insisted she had to taste the ‘do’, and when she almost burst into tears, I admonished Armstrong, ‘Come on, take a bite. My daughter won’t poison you.’

“She had to respect her superior’s orders and closed her eyes in disgust, chewing on her part of the donut. Nel tugged at her long hair and offered her another bite, which made Armstrong flinch. She suddenly took Nel up in her arms to get a better look at her. 

“When the baby started laughing, a miracle happened: her features relaxed into a smile and she told her, ‘You’re actually kind of cute. Unlike your dad.’

“Needless to say, all of us watched dumbfounded as Nel charmed the scary blonde- who knew Armstrong had a soft spot for kids, right?

“Two hours later, Riza entered the office in a frenzy, already running one hour late.

“‘I’m so sorry, I’m late, was everythin-’ she started in a frenzy, only to fall silent upon seeing the view in front of her.

“The whole Mustang and Armstrong teams were gather around her daughter, fawning over her and the donuts. That was the first time Riza knew for sure Nel had inherited my charming skills,” Roy declared proudly, making everyone roll their eyes.

“How many times have you told that story now?” Ed asked, counting it on his fingers, losing his patience when he reached six.

“I still like the story!” Nel assured her father, smiling sweetly.

Al whispered in Trisha’s ear, “I’m sure your skills are just as good.” That made the baby giggle, and she looked at her dad fondly.

Maybe that was what it meant to be like mint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I'll post one more chapter today and then will finish posting tomorrow:) I hope you enjoyed this ride-it's near the end, but this and the Lan chapter are two of my favourite, so I hope you'll stick around!  
> As always, kudos and comments keep me writing!


	12. Weaving through the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I have to say about this chapter is that it came from over-analysing Ed's character design. The characters did all the rest. Also, did you know that Penelope is of Greek origin, and the meaning of Penelope is "weaver". From "pene". Mythology: Penelope, wife of Odysseus, fended off suitors by weaving during the day and unraveling at night a tapestry she said had to be completed before she would wed another husband. The name has come to signify a loyal, capable, and intelligent woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I love the rain. I love how it softens the outline of things. The world becomes softly blurred, and I feel like I melt right into it.” ~Hanamoto Hagumi

“Maaan, I’m full!” Uncle Ling exclaimed, astonishing everyone. He rubbed his tummy satisfied. “What? I can also get full, you know?” he said upon meeting looks of disbelief.

“I want to believe you. You’ve almost emptied our cupboards, after all,” Edward commented, but his voice was muted by the loud request of his son.

“Mom, can we get dessert?” Yuriy hopped down from his chair after having collected his dishes and racing Sarah to the sink.

“I’ll start making the apple pie now so that it’ll be fresh. In the meanwhile, why don’t you and your dad go shopping for some fruit? We seem to have run out of them,” his mother answered, ruffling his hair when he reached the sink.

“Told you, empty!” Ed mumbled as he placed his own dishes next to his son’s and asked Winry, “What should I get if I’m going shopping?”

“Hmm… Well I guess whatever fruits you want: oranges, bananas, of course, strawberries, peaches…” She checked the cupboard. “Anything else you guys want?” she asked the guests.

“Milk for Trisha, please!” Mei called from the living room.

“Yuck!” Sarah exclaimed, her facial expression a perfect mirror of Edward’s.

“Oh, come on, Sarah, it’s not that bad!” Yuriy tried persuading his sister. In the three years of her life, no reason he came up with managed to convince her, though. It didn’t help that his dad was on her side and told her she’d grow even if she didn’t drink it.

“I know, girl, it sucks!” Ed patted her head, nodding with an understanding figure. Both Yuriy and his mother rolled their eyes- that was why she was shorter than other kids her age! His mother seemed to have come to terms with this, though, so he let it go, too.

“Oh, and also get some fish for our guests, Ed,” his mom added, getting started on the dishes.

“Winry!” his dad whined, “if I get food for the  _ guests _ ”, he stressed the word, “the bags will break my back!”

“Don’t worry dad, I’ll help!” Yuriy perked up, happy to help. He had been skeptical about his dad’s complaints regarding Uncle Ling’s stomach capacity, but after seeing for himself today,  he learnt that his father didn’t always exaggerate.

“Thanks, buddy!” he said, crouching to his level. “But if you want to go shopping, go wash your hands and change clothes!”

Behind him, he heard Sarah beg, “If Brother’s going, I want to go too!” Yuriy stopped in the doorway to hear his parents’ answer.

“Then you go do the same!” his dad said, pushing her back towards the door and joining his mom to help with the dishes.

“Uncle Ed?” Penelope asked, peeking into the kitchen and blocking Yuriy’s way out. “Are you going in town?”

Ed nodded. “Do you want to come too, Nel?” he read both her and Yuriy’s mind, who innerly thanked his father for launching the invitation.

“Can I?” Penelope shyly asked, and clapped her hands happily when Ed answered “Of course”.

Since the invitation was already made, Ed went ahead and asked Chen to join them too. After his parents approved and Yuriy begged him to come along, it was decided that all four kids were to go to the market and help with the shopping.

Yuriy rushed to his room happily and changed quickly. The clothes from his morning trip to the train station were already laid out on the bed, so he pulled them on fast, rushing to get change before his sister walked in. 

Before she came in with his mom to get a fresh change of clothes -it was always his mom that helped them change, since his dad sucked at choosing matching clothes and Sarah always nagged him about it- he had to hide what he had been working on for the past weeks.

He pushed the thin papers under his alchemy books in the nick of time. When Sarah walked in, Yuriy left the room quietly, as to not peek into her intimacy, and closed himself in the bathroom. He let the water rush over his hands, humming to himself, delighted with the day’s progress- the present was almost done! And just in time, too- tomorrow was the big day.

June 9th happened to be his mother’s birthday. And while that wasn’t the reason why all the guests had come over, he still wanted to make at least a little something for her. Yuriy knew his mom wasn’t the type to celebrate in a big style.

Last year, Yuriy and his sister simply made her drawings, whereas their dad did an unbelievably rare thing- he took all the house chores on himself: cooking, cleaning, washing clothes and dishes. After teasing him for half a day and driving him crazy with work -as Ed himself loudly complained- she asked him to stop.

“The biggest gift you guys could ever give me is a day spent together!” she told them, hugging the three members of the family. They spent the rest of the day in town and dined at a fancy restaurant because Winry was in no mood to cook and she wanted cheesecake. A picture from that day was now hanging in their home in Rush Valley.

Since Yuriy had gotten better at alchemy, he wanted to make his mom something by himself this year. With a bit of help from his dad and self-study from Ed’s old books, he pridefully came up with sketches for a transmutation circle that allowed him to make a small human sculpture. Yuriy’s intention was to make their whole family in wood, but with the guests here, he’d have to work at night.

He had also asked Sarah to join him, but she blantly refused and instead decided she’d tackle one old phone by herself. Yuriy knew it was better to leave her sister to her own whims when she had something in mind, and he had also learned that “gearheads” were difficult to deal with.

He turned off the tap and returned to his room, knocking before entering. It was something he often saw Aunt Riza or Aunt Roy do, and since he respected both of them, he figured it was the right thing to do. Then again, he would burst through the door if he was too excited about something, like discovering a new formula or winning a game.

He peeked in when there was no answer and was surprised by his empty room. After checking his hiding place one more time -“better safe than sorry”- he rushed downstairs to see what everyone was up to.

The view that awaited him stopped him dead in the tracks on the second to last step of the staircase- his father braiding Sarah’s hair was normal; it was the  _ queue _ after her that took him by surprise.

Yuriy stifled a laugh and listened to his sister complain, “Dad, do the two braids, the two braids!”

“I am doing them, but I don’t have the speed of light!” his father grumbled.

“That’s unfair, Ed! If you’re doing Sarah’s hair, do mine too!” his mother said, poking his cheek while he was trying to focus on braiding Sarah’s short blond hair.

“Uncle Ed, could I also get my hair done?” Penelope asked sweetly. Ed hummed in response, twisting the end of his daughter’s first braid.

“Ready yet?” Sarah asked, jumping up impatiently.

Ed put one hand firmly on her shoulder to stop her from moving and pulled on the other side of her head. “Hang on, just a bit longer,” he told her, moving his hands swiftly through her hair.

“Didn’t know you were such a talented hairdresser, Fullmetal!” Uncle Roy made fun of him. 

However, his dad had more experience than your average Joe, and thus snapped back in a matter of seconds, “Indeed, my skills are second to none. Want me to do your hair too, General Spark? I can even let you borrow one of Winry’s skirts.” He looked up from his work for the first time, only to shot uncle Roy a smug smirk. 

The man under attack could only squint at him, and Yuriy bet his dad had just added a point to his score in the matches with uncle Roy.

The boy really couldn’t comprehend how his mom and aunt Riza got along so well, he and Nel were best friends, yet for some mysterious reasons their fathers hated each other. He had a feeling _ hate _ was too strong of a word, but at times he had to wonder whether his gut feeling was indeed right.

“I’m done!” his dad exclaimed, freeing Sarah, who ran to the closest mirror. 

His mom let Nel pass first. She took her place in Ed’s lap and let him do whatever he thought suited her best.

“I like it!” Sarah yelled from the mirror.

“Of course! Braider Edward Elric knows his job!” her dad answered proudly.

Yuriy couldn’t hold in the laugh anymore joined Chen, who had somehow escaped from being braided, even though he had pretty long hair. Well, it wasn’t as long as Edward’s, but he already wore it in a small ponytail.

“Yuriy?” his friend suddenly asked, making the boy whip his head from the spectacle of Nel’s hair being made into a “fishtail waterfall”, as his dad proudly declared.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you not have long hair?” Chen innocently asked.

Yuriy’s first impulse was to shrug- short hair was normal among men, as far as he knew. But then he realised both Chen and Uncle Ling had rather long hair, as did his dad. And then he also realised his dad was the only Amestrian he knew with long hair.

“I guess it’s not that often that you see people with long hair here,” he answered after a moment’s thought, receiving a quiet nod from his friend. The question remained on his mind, though: why was his dad wearing long hair? After being tormented by the question throughout Nel’s whole makeover, he decided to ask his father directly.

“It’s perfect, uncle Ed!” Nel exclaimed, spinning around in front of the mirror. The spectacle pulled Yuriy out of his thoughts. “Thank you!” she came up to his dad and pecked his cheek in thanks. 

“It looks good on you!” Yuriy shyly complemented her. He was lying- it looked gorgeous. Nel thanked him happily.

“Now then!” Edward turned to his last customer on the list and offered her a dazzling smile, “Official Braider Edward Elric at your service, how might I help you today?”

Winry simply rolled her eyes at her show-off husband and told him, “Just the usual.”

“Are you underestimating my skills? I could make something of much bigger anvergure…” he pouted as he combed through her hair, but she brushed his offer off.

“Dad?” Yuriy perked up from behind him, pulling gently at his ponytail. “Why is it that you wear long hair?”

“Oh,” his dad simply shrugged, saying lightly, “I just had it that way ever since I was little and it became a habit. I used to braid it, though.”

“It’s because Aunt Trisha had it like that, right?” Winry whispered.

“Grandma?”

“I never really thought about it,” his dad answered. “Besides, cutting it is a pain in the ass, too,” he added, shaking his head to feel his ponytail flutter. “Plus, I have an image to live up to son, you know?”

Yuriy chuckled, but heard his dad out as he described the Fullmetal Alchemist- gorgeous golden eyes, a braided tail and always wearing a red jacket!

“And also a pipsqueak,” Winry reminded him, making him snort at the memory.

“But I’m taller than you now!” he commented, adding proudly, “Even though I never drank milk!”

“Dad!” Yuriy scolded him, trying really hard to suppress a laugh. “You’re not setting a good example for Sarah!” Luckily, the girl wasn’t listening, as she and Nel were in awe with their new hairstyles, pulling at the strands of hair as if they were made out of crystal.

“That’s not true, Brother!” Uncle Al laughed. “You ate it in stew.”

“I told you, Al, stew is the invention of a genius! To think it can make even milk taste good!” he exclaimed, fire lighting up his eyes. He let Winry’s braid fall on her back in waves. “Done!” he announced her and jumped back up on his feet.

“Well then, everyone’s dressed, hair is braided and we can finally go shopping!” he called out in a sing-song voice, gesturing for the children to join him. “Now guys,” he crouched down to their level and gave them instructions.

“Resembool might be a small town, but even so, never let go of each other’s hands.” They all nodded seriously. “Also, we’re stocking up like crazy and all from my wallet, so the least you can do is each carry a bag.” They nodded yet again, with Yuriy stealing a glance at the ‘gourmand’ guests. “And last but not least-” he paused dramatically “-you need to eat the healthy food if you want dessert!” 

Yuriy let out a hurray, followed by all his friends cries of joy. They all raised their hands in the air as if going on the adventure of their lives.

Yuriy and Sarah stopped on their rush outside to hug their mom and then raced each other to the hallway to tie their shoes before skipping out the door. However, unexpected hurdles to overcome appeared as soon as they attempted to put their shoes on.

“Sarah!” Yuriy exclaimed annoyed, “You’re on my shoes!”

“Chen, I think those are Yu-chan’s sandals,” he heard Nel behind him. “Where are mine?” she panicked.

“But I can’t tie these, Brother!” Sarah whined, pulling at his shirt.

“Let me do it!” he puffed, hoping that would unlock the path to his own shoes. What he didn’t realise was that helping her would mean he would be the last one to get out of the house, which wasn’t too manly. It looked like the other two had gotten Aunt Riza’s help before he even had a chance to even finish aiding Sarah - that should be counted as cheated. 

He rushed outside, yelling, “Wait! We need to wait for dad!”

“Guys!” Ed also yelled from the doorframe, from where all he could do was helplessly watch the kids run away through the gate. He slapped his face and groaned, “This will be one long trip!”

At least Chen stopped short of exiting the Elric grounds, seeing as his friend was far behind, and had the decency of waiting for him.

Only when a very firm woman voice warned, “Girls!” did Sarah and Nel stop to throw a look back.

“Ont Iza, you coming too?” Sarah ran back to the ‘base’ in the blink of an eye to meet with her most favourite Aunt, who sighed quietly and placed a hand on her hip.

“I don’t want Edward to come back in pieces. Four kids are a lot to handle,” she exchanged an understanding look with the blonde man. He nodded with a humph, seeing as the three rules he set before exiting the house were already being broken.

“Thanks, Hawkeye,” he said moments later. Sarah and Nel were glued to Riza’s hands, the two boys to his and they were finally waving Winry and the others goodbye to leave on their quest.

“Don’t mention it. You also helped Roy with that luggage this morning.”

Yuriy remembered the colossal amount of things the Mustangs had brought and shivered at the thought. Penelope was his best friend, but he doubted he could live with her on a daily basis- he was afraid they’d start fighting under such circumstances. He loved his sister just as much, if not even more than he loved his best friend, yet they still fought whenever she teasingly stole his things or when she doodled in his alchemy book, which she apparently found hilarious.

So if Yuriy had to chose, he’d keep his relationship with Nel as it was now. The time they spent apart worked in their favour, making the moments spent together all the more special. And they still got to talk over the phone. 

He wasn’t exactly sure how his parents managed to still be friends when they grew up as neighbours, but his mom had told him Ed mostly wasn’t at home most of the time, since he always travelled to meet up with other alchemists, so he thought that might have been the reason why it all worked out.

Thy quickly arrived at their destination. Yuriy took pleasure in explaining to Chen what some farmers were doing in the fields when they passed by them and even greeted them, allowing Chen to chat with them.

“We don’t use animals in Xing when farming,” the black-haired boy remarked, amazed by this strange method.

“Really? And you just carry everything yourself?” Yuriy was surprised when Chen nodded. 

“Dad, can we visit Xing?” he suddenly demanded.

“Why do you ask, buddy?” his father asked, startled.

“Chen tells me the farmers there don’t use bulls! And they all wear long hair and apparently Aunt Lan wears a mask! And Aunt Mei tells me they wear funny robes out there. I want to see that!”  

Ed attempted to explain how the road to Xing was really long and passed through the desert. He also tried persuading his son that deserts were damn hot and unpleasant and his leg could overheat.

“Well well, look who takes after your adventure spirit, Ed!” Aunt Riza laughed at his father’s loss of words.

“What do you mean?” Yuriy ignored his father and asked his Aunt instead.

“Well, your father used to like travelling a lot when he was younger. He still does,” she added, offering Ed a warm smile.

“Well, Creta has quite the interesting history and Aerugo is a great trading partner!” Ed said, smiling back.

“Aerugo is your neighbour, right?” Chen suddenly perked up, getting over the “bull-dilemma” and starting to rant on his political knowledge. “Could we also trade with them like we do with you?”

“The dessert is not that easy to cross,” Ed said apologetically, but Riza cut him off.

“No actually, we could mediate that. Might help them warm up to us… But then again they could see that as an attempt from our part to control them…” she whispered to herself.

“Would you relax, just for now, Hawkeye? We’re on holiday!” Edward sighed.

“Yeah mom! Can’t we talk about what we’re going to buy instead?” Nel perked up, dragging her out of her work-related thoughts.

“Right. Sorry,” she excused herself, locking eyes with Chen. “You’ll make a fine King someday,” she complimented him, causing him to smile and blush delighted.

Yuriy could tell his friend really wanted to be the King of Xing, and a good ruler at that. And he knew he would succeed. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel a bit envious. Chen already knew what he wanted to do, and had a clear goal. Even his own little sister knew she wanted to be an automail mechanic.

Meanwhile, all Yuriy knew was that politics bored him to death and that he could live his whole life doing Alchemy. He also knew he looked up to his parents because they helped people, something he also dreamt of doing. He also wanted to make the world a better place- he simply had no freaking idea how.

He decided not to think about that right that instant, though; he was supposed to have fun while he still could. So when they reached the market, he asked his dad to let him roam around and show his friends how the market worked- Chen and Nel hadn’t yet seen one before.

“What’s this?” Chen asked curiously, pointing towards a strawberry. 

Sarah gasped, “You really don’t know?” She seemed outright terrified by the thought, which made Chen feel a bit uncomfortable.

Yuriy patted his back and explained, “They’re strawberries. And those are peaches, and there we have grapes, and then apples and bananas. Oh and also raspberries and blackberries in that corner and over there one other thing called melon that I don’t like,” he gave him the whole tour.

“How can you not like melons, Yu-chan?” Nel was in shock. “They’re my favourite!”

“They’re just water!” he argued.

“That’s not true!” she raised her voice.

When their parents came to pick them up from the stand half an hour later, they were still arguing over the difference between watermelons and yellow melons and how Yuriy still though cherries were the best but Nel couldn’t stand them. Exactly Yuriy’s point- only a few hours together and they were arguing!

His dad thanked the shopper for looking after them, and the old man gave them a batch of strawberries on the house, to Sarah’s contentment.

“Come on, we only have that yucky milk to buy and we’re done,” Ed tried to cheer a pouting Yuriy up, but it didn’t work. 

He couldn’t care less about the milk or the waiting time, but he was angry at himself for having fought with Nel over such a stupid thing. He knew all he had to do was sorry, but she called him ‘stupid Yu-chan’ for no reason and he wasn’t going to let that pass.

“What happened, son?” his dad tried, but Yuriy refused to answer, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sarah and Chen had him covered- they spilled the beans on him while he shut up like a rock. Damn it, and he had thought Chen hadn’t even paid attention given how many questions he asked about the fruit and how he didn’t even bat an eye when he raised his voice as Nel! She was as quiet as him.

“Penelope, calling someone stupid isn’t nice!” her mother reprimanded her. Yuriy congratulated his Aunt silently, ‘You go, yeah, tell her!’

“Yuriy, are you mad because of that?” his dad asked, and he nodded. He was surprised when his father suddenly bent down and hugged him, whispering in his ear, “I know that must have wounded you, but you have forgive her. Look, sometimes we have to take the fault to make relationships work.”

“But it’s her fault!” he whispered angrily in his dad’s ear.

“But you started the fight, now didn’t you?”

Oh… That had conveniently slipped his mind.

He nodded against his dad’s shoulder and then Ed let him go. When he turned around to make an attempt to apologise to Nel, he was taken aback by the fact that she was right there, with her hand outstretched and tears dangerously close to falling from her eyelashes, Nel was biting her lower lip.

“I’m sorry!” she burst out, voice cracking.

“M-me too!” Yuriy admitted, taking her hand. He swayed under shock when she threw herself at him, wetting his shirt while burying her head in his chest.

“Don’t cry! It’s my fault!” he tried calming her, hugging her trembling frame.

“So you’ll still be my friend?”

“Of course! Friends always fight, right? Me and Sarah argue daily!” he reassured her.His sister got his back this time, nodding in agreement. That seemed to calm Nel down, but she still sobbed for a while before she pulled away and slowly twitched the corners of her mouth upwards. 

Aunt Riza smiled motherly and his dad patted both their heads. “Now that you got over your first fight, time to buy that damned milk and get home. Pie awaits us!” he lured them, getting them both to nod and follow him. 

For the rest of the trip, Nel was too scared to let go of Yuriy’s hand, which resulted in him violently blushing. He was thankful that, for whatever reason, Nel was looking down and not directly at him.

Ten minutes later, his dad happily deemed their mission as accomplished and gave them orders to return home. They were barely at the entrance of the market when Yuriy felt a wet drop on his hand. At first, he whipped his head around to Nel, afraid she was crying, but he then felt another drop on his nose. A look at the pitter-patter that colored the ground with the darker colour of wet earth and mud was enough to tell him what the real cause was.

“Oh great!” Aunt Riza let out with a sigh, mumbling something about “The Resembool weather being really tricky.” Ed pointed to the sun umbrella of a shopper and they all took refuge there, pondering their next move. The sound of the rain was growing louder, nullifying all the other sounds.

Chen extended his hand outside the safe territory of the umbrella. Yuriy remembered there wasn’t much rain in Xing- just what was it like there? Sarah stared at the downpour- Yuriy guessed she was thinking of a multifunctional automail with an umbrella: she had that dreamy look she only got when automail was involved.

“I hate rain!” Nel complained, squeezing Yuriy’s hand tighter. How could anyone hate rain? he wanted to ask, but didn’t say anything out loud, of fear he’d start yet another argument. 

Rain was beautiful- it washed over everything and left the world cleaner.Besides, there were sometimes even rainbows after the rain!

“What now?” aunt Riza asked. 

Yuriy unglued his eyes from the pouring rain only to see his dad carrying Sarah on his shoulders and handing his son a bag. The bag with milk, he noted, glaring at his dad.

“Can’t we transmute an umbrella or something?” Nel suggested, but Yuriy turned down the idea even with the risk it’d start a fight, picking onto his father’s idee.

“But walking in the rain is much more fun!” he pleaded.

“There are certain things you must enjoy without relying on alchemy,” his dad agreed. “Besides, a little water never killed anyone,” he laughed, running out of the protection the umbrella offered them while yelling, “Race to the house!”

“Dad, that’s unfair!” Yuriy yelled back.

“All’s fair in love and war!” his father yelled over the pitter-patter of the rain.

Steeling his nerves for the impact of the cold water, Yuriy pulled a reluctant Nel after him into the rain. He felt his clothes getting heavier immediately and his damp blond locks stuck to his forehead. It washed away all of his previous worries, all the pain from the fight and all of the day’s happenings, now turned into precious memories. Even the scar from their hide-and-seek game was being cleansed.

The others were merely a blur in the curtain of tiny droplets, except for Nel, whose hand he was still holding. Her hair was now a wet mess, but the braid his father had crafted remained there. She offered him a smile and increased her speed, running for the house on the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> We only have three chapters left! I hope you enjoyed this one- next one is LingLan chap!


	13. The Apple of Xing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three times Ling was turned down and one time he wasn't. Also, this chapter develops more on the politics of Xing (they are fascinating!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to medieval custom, throwing an apple at a lady meant proposing to her. If she caught it, she accepted your proposal. However, the apple is also known for its symbolism in the Greek mythology (the apple of discord in the Iliad).

Lan and Mei watched Winry as she prepared her famous apple pie, gathered around the kitchen counter. It had been a while since any of them had time to spend with other women their age. Even though she knew she didn’t regret the choices she had made, Lan had to admit it- she had missed this kind of interactions.

“Are you sure it’s fine to disclose the pie’s secret?” Mei asked, taking a place at the table.

“Sure! Al loves it, you know?” Winry winked in her direction, brushing off her worry with a simple gesture. Mei nodded with a blush, while Lan asked her if she needed any help.

“Not at all! You’re a guest, make yourself at home!” their host answered.

“I always do something at home! I’d feel bad, watching you do everything!” Lan insisted.

Winry sighed and handed her a couple of apples. “You can cut these if you want. Actually, slice them and then make them into tiny cubes.” She took one herself and showed her what she meant, “Like this.”

Lan started doing as she was shown, easily getting the hang of it. Occupation always made it easier for her to accommodate herself to a new place. The handle of the kitchen knife fit into her hand like it was made for it, its weight comparable to the weapons Lan was used to. 

She willed her mind to stop comparing everything to a weapon- she knew there were low chances someone would attack them in this quiet town. Sure, there were still  _ some _ chances, but she decided to deal with the assassins should they ever make their presence known, and thus disciplined her senses to fall into a lethargic state.

After having written down the recipe, Mei decided to shift the flow of the conversation to things her sister-in-law might enjoy as well. Talking about their families and their husbands’ antics proved to be an unbelievably fun topic.

Except for the nannies and cooks, and of course the female guests that threw daggers at her with their deadly looks, Lan wasn’t really much in the company of women, and the females were never ones she could talk to openly like this. Sure, she had Ling and Chen to discuss with, but there were still topics only to be brought up amongst those of your kind. For a while, she had Mei, but by the time they had overcame their aversion for the other’s clan, Mei left for Amestris again, leaving Lan with a crown to heavy to carry alone.

The first time Lan’s period was late for over a week, she felt like screaming, but there was no one to listen to her worries. She would have written Mei a letter, if only she wouldn’t have been busy enough already with turning down marriage proposals left and right.

She used to have a good relationship with the guards in the palace, but as soon as she became the Queen, they had changed their behaviour. They used to be closer when she was simply a guard- they were well aware she was the King’s favourite and she was their boss, but they still treated her warmly and as “one of them”. Even if she was still His Majesty’s bodyguard in her current position, she was also his wife, which made them look at her from afar and tense up in her presence.

The other women at the castle were also cold towards her. Not only were they of different clans, and despite all of Ling’s efforts, that was still a factor that unconsciously dictated relationships, but Lan also knew she wasn’t exactly what the dignitaries had in mind for the Emperor’s concubine.

Slowly, the mentality shifted towards a generally more accepting one. That was most likely thanks to how much closer to the smaller clans and the peasants she was, and how she could freely interact with them without intimidating them and without flattery. 

She also had Ling and his very strict choices to thank. He dismissed almost three quarters of his dad’s advisors and instead brought one person of his choice from each clan, making them undergo a trial period to determine if they were trustworthy. He often asked Lan for her opinion, since he claimed she had a good nose when it came to people. 

After almost three years of trial and error, he managed to form a sort of “royal court” he was happy with. Good relationships with Roy Mustang from Amestris never hurt either, and Amestris steadily became a reliable trading partner for Xing.

That three-year period was a hurdle to overcome in itself. Lan always had to be careful about her surroundings, as they were under the constant threat of being attacked by other clans or paid assassins. To think Xing was now a flourishing and peaceful country… It made those years seem like a distant nightmare.

Relying on people was difficult under such circumstances. At times, Lan started to doubt herself- going around asking people about pregnancy symptoms was out of the question. Telling her husband was something that would have to wait until she was sure, or he would have happily announced the whole country that he’d have a heir and he’d start throwing pompous banquets.

Lan didn’t want to consult a Xingese doctor either, for those weren’t exactly on friendly terms with the Yao clan. Hidden backstory made them treat Yaos with utmost indifference- that was the issue Ling addressed in the nine months Lan was pregnant, which helped improve the whole country’s health system.

Lan had to bless the new railroad and how her arm had gotten rusty lately for being the perfect excuse to make a trip to her good mechanic, Winry Elric. Lan also had the brilliant idea of asking Winry to extend automail out in Xing when she saw how many of her compatriots were in need for such metal limbs- in the early years of Emperor Yao’s reign, civil wars were a daily occurrence. As such, preparations were made for the Queen to set out West and talk to one of the best Amestrian mechanics for official -and less official- purposes.

Worried as ever, Ling pestered her to take bodyguards with her and to be careful at all times, but Lan managed to brush him off. It was harder convincing the royal court to let her leave so defenseless, but after proving her point with an accurately shot kunai in between the men’s faces, they all agreed she was apt to take care of herself. She really didn’t want any curious eyes alongside her.

Visiting Winry always helped her clear her mind, and the woman also accepted her offer to start off an automail business in Xing with excitement. Lan was surprised she was so easy-going about leaving her country and her husband to visit foreign territory, but Winry assured her Edward would be fine with it.

While she was there, Winry’s grandmother was kind enough to examine Lan and confirm that she was indeed pregnant. To her surprise, the Xingese found herself to be exceedingly happy with the news of carrying the King’s child, as was her blonde Amestrian friend. On their way to Xing- Winry had decided to return with her after talking with Ed- the blue-eyed confessed to being relieved that she would find out from Lan how motherhood worked before having to experience it herself.

It was through that incident that Lan felt herself get even closer to Winry, and the reason why, when she asked her about “those three proposals” while waiting for the pie to bake, she was fine with sharing them. Mei was also like a sister to her now- who would have thought after they had almost killed each other upon their first meeting?

“Well… Ling did indeed propose three times before I accepted on his fourth try.”

“Wasn’t three supposed to be the lucky number?” Winry asked, chuckling.

“Not in Xing. Our lucky number is eight, because its pronunciation is close to that of the phrase meaning ‘to make a fortune’. Silly, right?” Mei explained, laughing. 

“Four is actually considered _terribly unlucky,_ because it sounds like the word for ‘death’,” Lan stated, matter-of-factly.

“What?!” Winry gasped, scolding Lan playfully, “Couldn’t you have taken up his third offer?”

“Under no circumstances,” Lan absolutely shut down the idea, shaking her head.

“Why did you turn him down the first three times?” She asked with that nonchalance Westerned had even when it came to intimate questions not even a Xingese family member would have asked.

Mei also begged her to tell the story with sparkling eyes.

“The first time was in the evening when he found out he was going to become king.

“He burst into my room without knocking first, so I thought he must have mistaken the room, since his was right next to mine. But then he skipped the distance between us and hugged me. 

“‘I’ll be the next king,’ he whispered in my ear.

“We had both expected as much, but there’s a certain comfort of hearing the official announcement. It was like a weight had been lifted from my chest. I let out a sigh I didn’t know I was holding in and hugged him back, letting this one small gesture of affection pass in celebration for the wonderful news.”

She didn’t need to say anything out loud- he knew.

“‘But you know-’ he pulled away from the warmth of the embrace to look at me seriously ‘-every king needs a queen.’”

“Awww” Winry let out, both hands on her cheeks as she swayed her head from side to side.

“Honestly, all I wanted was to say yes, but I was aware the Young Lord would have it tough enough changing the country. I couldn’t give him yet another handicap- any wrong move weighed heavily on his shoulders. As such, I gulped down my selfishness. 

“‘It wouldn’t be appropriate, Young Master.’

“He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a small, sad laugh. ‘I knew you’d say that.’ Then he fixed me with a determined look and placed his forehead against mine, ‘But don’t worry, I’ll never give up.’”

Lan didn’t feel like it would have been appropriate to tell them what happened before he left the room. 

She shut her eyes, glad he understood the reason. Her face without the mask must have been like an open book for him, but for now, she enjoyed feeling his  _ qi  _ flow right through her. She suddenly felt the flow of  _ qi _ broken by her panic when they felt his hot lips on theirs. She opened her eyes, to make sure that wasn’t just an illusion. Ling was actually kissing her. 

Before she had any chance to react, he broke off the kiss and headed to the door that connected their two rooms. “Good night, my queen,” he wished her and shut the door behind him.

She was left to mutter to herself, “I’m not even the queen.” 

Her lips tasted like him.

“Oh, that was really romantic!” Winry commented, Mei nodding in agreement.

“It might have been, but it made things much harder for me,” Lan sighed, touching her forehead with the tips of her fingers. That must have been one of the only times in her life she felt happy she had to hide her face while working.

Afterwards, Ling behaved like nothing had changed between them. In a way, it hadn’t- she still harboured romantic feelings for him and she knew he did as well, but their dynamic remained unchanged. He didn’t have time to lose with lingering glances on her body when he needed to prepare for the Crowning Ceremony. Likewise, she had no time to lose when she knew his life was going to be endangered even more from now on.

Once he ascended to the throne, everyone started fussing about his security, but he brushed them off saying Lan would more than suffice. 

As if to test her, there was an assassination attempt in the first month of his reign. Lan was in the room next door and made her appearance in the blink of an eye, catching the assassin before he could inflict any harm on his Majesty. Ling later argued he could have done it himself, but Lan was scared out of her skin by the thought that she could have been sleeping and Ling could have been injured.

That incident turned out to be surprisingly beneficial for her, though. Firstly, the whole Court learned she was capable and trustworthy and so she was named head of the guards and became responsible of the other guards’ training. Secondly, the soldiers who came in to imprison the assassin finally realised she was a girl.

When she was younger, concealing her gender was much easier. The somewhat baggy vest and the mask used to be enough to hide her female features. As she hit 15 though, her body started to curve and to fill out her costume, giving her trouble when it came to hiding her gender. Ling used to often ask her why she was so keen on keeping it a secret, and she always told him those were personal matters. 

The truth was that she feared being an woman would jeopardise her position as her Master’s bodyguard. She was all too aware that was something only he had any right to decide, but with him being the King, what the others thought was more important than ever.

“The second time was after a miai.

“It was about an year after the first proposal. I had more tasks than before, as the head trained the other guards. I actually had a few students I was content with and I entrusted them with guarding His Majesty while he was on Castle Grounds. Sure, when he wanted to go away on a longer trip, it was still me who went with him, and there were times when he expressly asked for me.

“After I attended his first two miais, I realised the danger was close to zero and that they were also bad for my health, so I decided to give the job to someone else.

“After one such meeting, he entered the court during my training session and kindly requested for my presence. My students were surprised when I asked him whether it was urgent and that him grumpily answering  _ no _ , made me tell him to wait patiently for my lesson to be over.”

“You actually did that?” Mei broke into a fit of giggles, trying in vain to cover her mouth.

“I did,” Lan smiled back. “Letting His Majesty do whatever he pleases isn’t good for him. Besides, you know how Ling can get.”

“Oh I do!” Mei responded, still chuckling. “He once broke into the kitchen yelling, ‘I want Amestrian food tonight!’ and stormed off just as fast, letting the cooks in a daze. They ended up calling Al, interrupting our lesson. Later that night, Ling told them it was simply a whim and he could have done with seafood as well,” Mei told Winry. 

The Amestrian nodded with a look that read, ‘Sounds familiar’.

“The few students that pass my tests should also know that alimentating his desires isn’t always for the best. It depends the tone of his voice- you can tell whether he is being serious or just-” steady looks from her friends made Lan clear her throat and continue.

“When the lesson was over, he walked ahead of me, back to the Royal Chambers and gestured for me to follow him into his room. He plumped into his chair with a sulky face and took off his mantle, and then what he called the ‘stupid pompous stuff’ his advisors made him wear to ‘look the part’.

“‘How was the meeting, your majesty?’ I asked before I could swallow my words.

“He snorted in response, not even gracing me with a look and slamming the jewels on the table. ‘Terrible. Lately, I have the feeling they won’t even try to find me a decent partner, knowing I’ll reject them either way.’ He sighed and looked out the window, where the gardner was trimming the trees and the guards were patrolling the area.

“‘Am I asking for too much? At least a decent conversation partner so I wouldn’t waste my time!’ He turned to look at me and say nonchalantly, ‘It’s not like I’ll marry anyone other than you, anyway, so I should just suck it up, but I’m really angry!’

“I would like to say the words weighed heavily between ud in a lingering silence, but they didn’t, because he continued, ‘Now that I outright told them I refuse to sleep with 50 women and that each clan should be seen as equal in my eyes, they try to snatch the power by marrying me?! Then at least give me something to work with! I’m not expecting anyone to raise to your level, Lan Fan, but don’t they have at least intelligent women that I can discuss with about politics? Or heck, even about the weather!’

“He continued his rant for about ten more minutes, but I was only partially listening. I couldn’t tear my mind from the words he used so lightly to describe me. It was reassuring to know his feelings hadn’t changed. Taking off my mask was all I could do in return.

“When he was finally done, he sighed deeply and let his shoulders slump. ‘Sorry about that. I know it’s the price I have to pay for being king. Wouldn’t you make it easier for me, though?’ 

“He came closer and gently took my hands in his, ‘Won’t you marry me, Lan?’

“I stared at him, wanting to scream yes and instead answering with those pathetic words. ‘You know as well as I do I can’t, Your Highness.’

“He shook his head softly and whispered, ‘I figured.’

He walked out of the room and I followed him, resuming our roles.”

She omitted to mention he then quickly pecked her cheek and slowly lowered his lips to kiss her, this time longer than the last one, but still not long enough. There was only so much she could share.

“That was rather random,” Winry noticed.

“Most of his affectionate gestures are random,” Lan agreed.

“Oh right. Like when you told him you were pregnant and he burst into my room singing?” Winry laughed.

“Do you know how hard it was to stop him from throwing a banquet that day?” Lan sighed tiredly.

“He did when Chen was born, though,” Mei reminded them. “Al told me that was an even bigger banquet than when Mr. Mustang announced his engagement. And that guy had a  _ huuugeee  _ party,” Mei underlined, watching at a dejected Lan.

“I know Ling can be a show off,” Lan admitted. But she also knew he could control himself when needed.

He was a show off when he wanted to prove his advisors that his guard was’ more than simply talented at fighting, but also smart and kind’, as he put it.

He was in an important and private meeting with his new advisors. Lan was guarding him by the door, ready to break into the room if she heard yelling. Instead, she heard her voice being called loud and clear by The Emperor himself. 

She knocked on the door and when called to enter, kneeled in front of the important faces and asked, “Did you call for me, your Majesty?”

“I did indeed.” 

She looked up from behind her bangs to see his expression, which was calm and collected. That meant he was in no danger. And then why-

“Please, take a seat,” he invited her, pointing to a free cushion on the other side of the table from him. The bodyguard felt all eyes on her. She sat down and kept her head bowed.

“Lan Fan.” The Emperor’s voice ordered her to look at him. When she did, she saw a reassuring gaze and an encouragement. “Under my orders, you went into town, did you not?”

“I did, your Majesty.” her answer came promptly, her voice collected and sure.

“Might you inform these gentlemen about what you found out about the way people think our country is governed?”

She visited the town unmasked and in civilian clothes in order to find out more about what they thought of the reign and what their needs were. However, it was not under Ling’s orders that she did that, but under her own impulse. Lan was patrolling the castle walls when she noticed an old woman quivering under the weight of her bags. Being out of duty and knowing her Master was safe, Lan decided to help her.

She was then welcomed into her house and talked to the kids, who told her they thought her mask looked funny, but she didn’t tell them why she wore it. They also told her they thought the new king was a nice because he let everyone visit the castle one day..

Lan decided to do sneak into town more often. After her third visit or so, Ling got suspicious about her leaving the Castle Grounds and asked for the truth.To her surprise, he wasn’t mad- on the contrary, he supported her to continue, all the while admitting to being jealous she could interact with people like that.

“The citizens consider the freedom King Yao grants them refreshing. However, they also think that the country doesn’t provide them with enough health support and good medical resources. They are also bothered by the lack of an educational system for those that aren’t wealthy. They appreciate the new railway to Amestris, which gives them a means to communicate and trade, but that also means the younger and brighter ones leave.”

Many believed Amestris to be a better place to live, especially since Fuhrer Grumman took over. The ones who stayed received letters that the country was indeed flourishing, but didn’t leave because they were sick or old or had children to care for.

“Now you see why I say the situation isn’t that good?” the Emperor spoke once she was done. “We need to give people a reason to stay- hope that this country can once again prosper. That we won’t vanish.”

“People are tied to traditions,” one of the advisors argued.

“Maybe the older ones. The youngsters are in search of new experiences. In a word where you can travel freely, they’ll want to visit new places and they’ll see other aspects of life.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“I suggest we fulfill their needs. Lan Fan, would you be willing to work as my spy?”

She imperceptibly jerked at the words, but he noticed. His look reassuring look willed her to nod.

“Good then. Please keep us updated.”

After that meeting, Lan became part of the next councils and became one of Ling’s closest aides. She was now in charge of managing his schedule too, basically making sure he didn’t slack off- which he had a tendency of doing from time to time.

“The third time was when he claimed he needed a break. In fact, he probably just felt like slacking off with my accord. There were no important meetings, no urgent paperwork to sign, no audiences to see through.  I couldn’t say no.

“Ling declared himself sick, but accepted no doctors under the reason that he only needed rest as he overworked himself.”

Mei snorted, “That guy will overwork himself when his appetite will lose intensity.”

“I wish Ed would be like that!” Winry sighed. “He always falls asleep with his head on alchemy books! That guy- he says politics is boring yet he spends all week in his office working like crazy, and claims he can only do what he likes at night!”

“I hear you! Alphonse always has to be so strict about getting things done in time, too.”

Lan hid a small smile- her friends were just the same as their husbands, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break those news to them.

“Anyway Lan, I’m sorry we interrupted,” Mei turned the discussion back on track.

“And so a free day it was,” Lan resumed. “It was my day to go in town and Ling said he wanted to join me. I saw no reason to deny his request, so we both changed clothes and sneaked out of the castle- knowing the guard’s patrol pattern helps.

“Once we reached town, I was honestly pretty concerned Ling would be found out, but apparently the clothes and makeup made him unrecognizable. I stopped by an acquaintance's family.

“‘Is this your man?’ she the old woman asked me.

“Ling chose that exact moment to eavesdrop. He complained to the lady, ‘You know, I have asked her to marry me but she turned me down. Twice!’

“‘Oh my, oh my!’ the lady laughed, and I felt my face go red as a tomato. Luckily, the kids came to my salvation and I went ahead to play with them, leaving Ling to discuss whatever crossed his mind with the lady.

“He later went ahead and helped the other men of the village at work, whereas I returned to the house with water and helped the granny cook lunch.

“‘That young man is rather nice,’ she noticed as she stirred the soup, while I was cutting vegetables. The knife came dangerously close to my skin, but I retracted my finger in time, getting over the shock.

“‘He is bright and seems very kind,’ she added, holding my stare. ‘He is also especially fond of you.’

“I glanced him working out the window. A sick man would have never been able to work so hard in the naked sun, but he seemed to actually enjoy himself and bond with the villagers.

“‘Why did you turn him down?’ she asked as I brought her the vegetables, patting my hand. I felt my shoulders slump and my face darken.

“‘That’s… because of our families,’ I finally managed, which wasn’t entirely false. ‘They don’t really want us to get married.’

“‘But do you want to?’ she asked me, and I nodded while looking down bashfully. ‘That’s the most important part,’ she laughed, cupping my cheek. ‘I know you’ll find a way.’

“The rest of the day passed by without any major events. We all ate lunch together and by the time we left, the kids seemed to have befriended Ling. 

“On the way back, we took the scenic route. Once we were out of sight from the small house, Ling took my hand without asking and to start whistling.

“‘You know,’ he suddenly said, ‘I liked those people.’ I hummed in agreement. ‘And this was a rather educational experience. Let’s do it again sometime.’ I nodded, feeling him squeeze my hand and tightened my grip around it.

“‘Hey Lan,’ he asked again, as nonchalant as ever, ‘won’t you marry me?’

“This time I was prepared. ‘Not yet, Ling.’ There was till one thing he had to do and he knew it.

“‘Oh, and just when I thought you’d cut me some slack!’ he sulked. ‘Well that’s the closest I ever was to getting an yes from you.’”

Lan omitted to mention that this time it was her who pecked his cheek and dragged him on the rest of the way to the palace. He called her out for that, asking, “What was that for?”

“No reason,” she mysteriously answered.

“Oh come on! Lan! Hey!”

“No,” she laughed at his tantrum, and then he resigned with an “Whatever” and kissed her, saying that was only fair. He also told her he won’t give up on marrying her.

“You know, if there’s one thing I learnt from Greed, it’s that saying what you want isn’t a bad thing.”

“What did he still have to do?” Winry asked.

“To keep his promise of uniting the tribes.”

“But didn’t he do that already?” she frowned confused.

“It was quite unstable. They all obeyed him thinking one of their women might marry him and thus the tribe would become more powerful. It was the kind of alliance that would have broken once he got married to me.”

“Then how did he do that?”

“Basically, what the clans wanted was power, and so power he gave them,” Mei explained. “First, he searched for people he could trust in every clan and chose a representative from each. It didn’t go as smooth as that, but let’s just keep it simple.”

It didn’t go smooth at all. Before Ling was able to find 48 solid representatives -him and Mei excluded- almost an entire year passed. There were debates as to why not all the siblings would be chosen, but he dismissed that for obvious reasons. Most of them were just waiting for an opportunity to slut his throat and get the throne. Only three of the 49 were to be trusted, Mei included.

Then there was the issue of how to fairly select them. That went in the form of interviews, and “what-if” scenarios.

“Then he grouped them in groups of three or four, forming some syndicates. For instance, the clans of Wei, Ping and Li formed the Syndicate of Trading. Kinda like Amestrian ministers.

“He tried to group those who went along decently and to give them each a certain area to have control over. The four he trusted the most became his new advisors, that would be me, my sister Wang Xiu Ying, brother Zhang Yong, Wang Tao and Ping Chao.” Winry stared blankly at Mei as she splurted out the Xingese names.

“Either way, the idea is that he divided the power in order to rule more efficiently and also force the clans to work together,” Lan concluded.

“Seems logical. Why didn’t he do that from the start, though?” Winry asked, face now frown-less.

“Well… That’s because he had other things to change in his first two years.” Lan started.

“Yeah! He had to tie ends with what the previous emperor left behind, which were a bunch of messy ordeals,” Mei completed.

Indeed, the former king left Ling Yao with a mountain of ambitious projects, out of which only two were started. The promises and big words rested in the collective memory, hence the civil wars. 

“Then he had to deal with the heir issue. You can’t imagine how huge of an uproar refusing to have 50 children caused!”

“I almost couldn’t sleep from worry in that first month. All of them were after his throat.” Lan shivered at the memory of her hands on the assassin's wrists, immonislising him.

“And then there were the old advisors that were in dire need of being replaced,” Mei added.

Oh that bunch of people! They were the best at complementing the king, but they all put their own personal affairs over the country’s.

“I see,” Winry nodded, satisfied with the answer.

“So now, when did you finally accept?” Mei asked Lan.

“The fourth and final time was at the end of his third year of reign. It was the National Day, so the castle opened its doors for everyone and, in return, we sneaked out in the capital town for the festival.”

They used to go to that festival when they were little. He would always spend all his pocket money on food, but to his credit, he always bought snacks for Lan, as well. When his money was all gone, they went to booths and paid with Lan’s pocket money to scoop goldfish or to shoot at the arcade. It was always Lan who won the first prize at dartz and always Ling who won the eating contest. 

The night would end with them watching the fireworks. Ling found a new quiet place each year. Lan had no idea when he went looking for them. Old man Fu looked over them from afar and indulged them in those little childish pastimes.

“It was me and Ling and his advisor team, as well as Alphonse that went out.

“Of course Ling went around and bought whatever food caught his eye, meaning most of it. He also got me what I liked and then we started playing at the booths, winning prizes at the shooting stall and the eating contest.

“It wlt like an eternity since the last time I didn’t have to wear my mask and he had his hair down and wore a yukata matching mine. It was… Refreshing.”

It was more than refreshing. It felt good. 

It felt right.

“We looked for a quiet place once the firework show drew closer. It was almost like a tradition from our childhood- watching them with just the two of us, separated from the rest of the world. 

“He pulled me to this place we had never been to before all at once, making a gesture for me to keep quiet so we’d lose the others.

A loud sound announced the start of the show. I was watching the fireworks when he pulled my sleeve and threw an apple at me. I caught it and he smirked. I quirked my eyebrows at that, but ignored it and bit into the fruit anyway.

‘You know, we really have been through a lot,’he said loud enough to overlap the fireworks.

‘Mhm,’ I hummed in agreement.

‘I can’t believe three years have passed since I was crowned,’ he sighed melancholically.

I had to come one step closer to hear him. ‘But I finally managed to unify the clans!’ he was beaming, turning his head from the sky and looking at me.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She knew what he implied.

“‘Lan, would you marry me?’ he asked me for the fourth time, and this time I had to say yes.”

“Funny fact, though: the fireworks were loud so she more like screamed  _ yes _ . Luckily we were alone,” a masculine voice completed and Lan nodded unfazed,

“When did you get here?” Winry screeched, jerking in her seat. Even Mei had to blink a few times of surprise- it looked like only Lan was ready for his sneaky appearances.

“A few moments ago.”

“How?” Winry asked shocked, trying to calm her  _ qi _ .

“The door,” he pointed lazily, causing the mechanic to roll her eyes and drop the subject.

“Looks like you guys were sharing stories,” he noted, taking a seat next to Lan and crossing his arms to lay his head on them. “Go ahead, I’m all ears!” he sing-songed.

“Unfortunately, we just finished,” Lan informed him.

“Oh how unfair! You tell them about my most perfect proposal and don’t call me to listen?” He looked like a dejected puppy in the rain.

“I’ll make sure not to repeat such a terrible mistake,” she promised in a solemn voice.

_ She didn’t continue the story to tell them how he snickered at her when she raised her voice and that she then embarrassedly look away. Nor did she say that he hugged her then and whispered, “You look beautiful” in her ear. She muttered a “Shut up” with a sulk, but didn’t pull away when he kissed her. _

_ “Finally,” He muttered, resting his forehead against hers. She relaxed in the embrace and nodded, feeling his breath tickle her face. She didn’t know how much time they spent like that. Enough for the fireworks to stop. _

_ “I’m going to tell the advisors today,” Ling whispered _

_ “We are going to,” she corrected him. _

_ “Right, my queen.” _

_ “Do you think the others will accept?” she asked, a bit fearful. _

_ “Doesn’t matter. I would marry you even if the Gods were against it.” There was fire in his eyes. _

_ He didn’t let go of her hand for the rest of the night. _

“The whole house smells like pie!” Alphonse happily exclaimed, entering the kitchen with Trisha in his arms and Roy Mustang following him.

“It really has the same scent as Garcia’s,” the latter noticed. For whatever reason, his voice died out at the end and his  _ qi  _ became a bit unstable.

“It’s her recipe after all,” Winry forced a laugh, but she was just as sad as he was. 

Lan shifted her eyes in between them but decided not to pry any further. Ling also seemed to have let it pass.

Just then, a thunder broke the silence in the room and the pitter-patter of rain fell against the windows.

“The kids! Ed!” Winry suddenly got up from her seat and rushed to the windows to close them.

“Do they have an umbrella?” Alphonse asked.

“Probably not,” Winry shook her head.

“Should I go after them?” Roy offered, but Winry shot him a look.

“Do you even know where the market is?” 

His shoulders slumped at the remark. Winry rushed to the hallway, slipping into her shoes and fumbling in the closet for an umbrella.

“I’m coming too,” Al insisted, letting Trisha with Mei and rushing to get his shoes on. The baby cried, but he shushed her, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Take care!” Lan and Mei wished them. Al gave them a thumbs up as he closed the door behind him and opened his umbrella.

“Oh God, I hope Nel and Riza are alright!” Roy worriedly exclaimed, rubbing his temples.

“Couldn’t they have transmuted an umbrella?” Ling asked.

“I doubt they have the necessary materials,” Roy answered, leaning against the window in the living room and gazing outside.

Everyone moved into the living room, waiting for their arrival.

“I hope they at least waited in the market!” Mei said to break the silence.

“With Fullmetal and his kids? I highly doubt it,” Roy snorted.

Lan smiled softly, without no one other than Ling noticing. For Chen, this must have been his first time seeing rain. Xing was a place where it almost never rained, and when it did, he wasn’t allowed outside. 

Ten minutes later, the door slammed across the window and came with at least three concomitant voices, “What were you thinking, running in the rain? You’re soaking wet!” Winry was yelling at Edward, a dripping wet Sarah in her arms. She put her down to twist her husband’s hair to get the water out.

“Oh come on, it’s fun! We always did it as kids!” Ed responded.

Meanwhile, Yuriy was beaming at Nel, whose hand he was holding. “Wasn’t it fun?” he asked her. She nodded excitedly, cheeks rosy.

“Thank you once again for coming, Alphonse,” Riza said, getting her shoes off and pulling at the end of her shirt to un-water it, but it was pointless.

“Fullmetal, what did you do?!” Mustang was furious. The fact that Yuriy Elric was holding his daughter's hand obviously didn’t help.

“A little help would be appreciated, Captain Spark!” Ed snapped back.

Chen came running to his mom in all this vacarm, his face radiating with a bright smile as he left a trail of water behind him. “Mom, rain is so refreshing!” He informed her of his new discovery. 

She hugged him despite his freezing wet clothes and took him in her arms, getting her clothes all wet, as well. “And off to a good shower we go. You can tell me all about it after you’re warm and dry.”

“Can’t I tell you in the bathroom?” he pleaded.

“Sure you can,” she smiled.

Chen Yuriy took the first bath, while the two girls occupied the second bathroom upstairs. It was Riza and Ed that God abandoned with their spouses down in the living room, their conversations heard in all the house.

“What were you thinking, accepting such a foolish idea, Riza?” her husband asked as he dried her hair with his flames kept at a safe distance.

“It was because it was foolish,” she chuckled.

“Seriously, Ed!” Winry still complained.

“Shouldn’t you take care of the kids instead of yelling at me?” he asked her. Lan heard a loud noise and then her angry steps on the stairs. Her wrench was most likely left downstairs with Ed.

Lan rubbed the shampoo in Chen’s head and listened to all of his rain stories while Yuriy was playing with the bubbles from the conditioner. 

The house smelt like rain and apple pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys!  
> I intend to clean up this chapter and put the proposals out as an one-shot, too. God knows when I'll have time for that but hey, a girl can dream! I hope you enjoyed the LingLan and that you'll stick around for the last two chapters!


	14. Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse has had something on his mind for a fairly long time- ten years don't kill the guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the heart is. ~Anonymus

Alphonse bit into his apple pie, allowing the sweet and sour taste to melt and mix on his tongue, crunchy and yet smooth fighting for the most fitting description of Winry’s delicious dessert. Ten years later, he still wondered how the human body could actually taste everything around them. It was fascinated how nature could accomplish such a feat!

“It’s as good as ever, Winry!” he complimented her.

“Thank you, Al.” she blushed delighted.

“Yeah, really good!” Ed also said, stuffing his mouth as usual. Winry elbowed him lightly, but he only grinned at her. “What?!  I wouldn’t gulp it down if it wasn’t so good!”

Winry blushed even harder at his weird manner of complementing and Al hid a smile by taking another spoon of his dessert- those two still had the strangest way of getting their feelings across.

“Well, Mei now has the recipe too,” she changed the subject suddenly.

“Really? You’ll also bake it?” he asked happily, beaming like a child when he whipped his head around to her..

“Yeah, but don’t get your hopes that high up,” she tried calming him down with the hand that wasn’t holding Trisha. “I’m only a beginner!”

“I trust you, Mei,” he sincerely told her with a fond gaze. She returned his gaze warmly. 

Another thing Al liked was that now, people like Mei could read his thoughts through his eyes. The expressiveness of the human face shall never be underestimated.

“Aw, aren’t you guys sweet,” Ed said in a mocking voice, making Winry slap his shoulder, too light for it to be genuine. She looked guilty, which made it all the more obvious she agreed with Ed. 

Al decided to play the innocent card and smile sweetly. Instead, Mei shot daggers with her stare at her brother-in-law, making him shiver. “Thank you, Brother.”

Mei broke eye contact with Edward for a moment to look at him and then went back to throwing daggers. Al scanned the room to see Hawkeye looking amused and Mustang watching like a proud parent, though he would deny it all vigorously if anyone ever told him. Well, maybe anyone other than Hawkeye-san. 

Ling looked dejected, like he wanted to be the one to tease Al and Ed stole his thunder. So much for his luck, Al thought for a moment, returning his attention to the pie. He and Ling used to have teasing “wars” when they were only in the company of the four advisors, since Ling declared he missed calling Edward a runt. Alphonse indulged him, indulging in the fact that he wasn’t didn’t have to calm his brother any longer, but that he could actually participate in the comeback battles.

They remained silent for a moment, enjoying their dessert to the fullest. The kids played upstairs, their voices echoing in the rest of the quiet house only occasionally.

Alphonse had really missed the house, and the voices of children reminded him of their own childhood and how him, Brother and Winry used to brighten up the place. Now there were more than three people, though, and he was back in his body and got to taste delicious food like Winry’s pie and could touch his daughter. And Ed was also happy and had finally married Winry. And he had also grown taller.

All the people they had met along the way were to thank for this, for they helped them walk their path. Their closest friends were also met during that time of hardships- ten years later, their dynamic hadn’t changed at all. He smiled at the thought, inhaling deeply and taking in the scent of the house.

Besides the smell of the pie, it smelled like his brother. It also smelled like automail and oil, and it smelled like books and the freshly brewed coffee Ed loved so much. And right now, it carried the smells of the kids and the guests, coming together in perfect harmony.

The pictures were still there, too. Winry never ceased to gather more and more photos of their family, from generation to generation. There were photographs of Granny there, of their mother and them as kids, of their Father and Winry’s parents, and of them growing up. Al in a suit of armor was there, smiling from next to a beaming Al in the flesh. And next to that was…

“Pffft!” Al couldn’t control a chuckle that erupted into a full laugh. “B-brother…” his voice quivered under his laugh.

“What?” Ed asked, approaching him to see what stirred his laugh. As he got close to the panel, Ed felt a smile dancing at his lips.

“What is it?” Winry asked curiously, bending over Ed’s shoulder to see what made the brother laugh and chuckled. “Oh, that.”

Alphonse felt Mei by his side, giggling at the picture of Roy Mustang, proudly wearing the uniform of a Brigadier General on his promotion day, doodled over by Ed, no doubt. A very sophisticated moustache ornamented the military men’s face, contrasting with his seriousness.

Everyone gathered around the panel like bees around nectar to see what the whole fuss was about. Ironically, Mr. Mustang was the last one to arrive and also the last to identify the cause of the laughter. When he did, however-

“Full _ metal _ ,” his voice rose dangerously, becoming high pitched as he drew closer to the end of his name. “What is  _ this _ about?” he hissed, placing a not-so-friendly hand on Edward’s back. 

Ed shrugged. “I knew there was a reason for this, but I don’t remember. Anyway, I must have been pisseed at ya,” he concluded casually, as Mustang’s fury only grew and threatened to burst in a nasty eruption. Al was prepared to get in between them, shall need arise, but Winry spoke, distracting the two.

“Oh, I remember,” she chirped, looking at Ed. “It was when you came from Creta!”

“Oh yeah, I remember now,” Edward hummed after a moment, pointing a finger to his chin thoughtfully. He then bumped his fist against his hand. “It was after you called!” he exclaimed, making Roy frown.

“I called?” he repeated, puzzled.

“Yeah! How could you have forgotten?!” the anger from that time resurfaced in Ed’s memory. “I had just arrived home after I went to Creta with Fuery and Havoc to inspect the area for you. You know, when you worked me be to the bone as your Investigator,” he groaned.

Indeed, Al remembered that, while they were in the hospital after the Promised Day, Mr. Mustang asked for both of them to come to his room, claiming he had something important to communicate. However, he only talked to them separately, and never told one what he told the other. 

Ed later explained that he was asked to join the Investigator Office on Hughes’s former position. His voice was low and shaky as he talked, and he told Al he needed time to think before he stumbled back into his hospital bed and buried himself under the sheets.

When Ed asked Al what Mustang told him, he said it was the usual, nothing worth listening to. Ed dived back into his sombre thoughts, and they spent the rest of the day in silence.

“Yes, I do remember ordering you to spend a month in Creta and report to me about their willingness to cooperate,” Roy deadpanned, still not understanding the link.

“And after that I came back home, because unlike you, I had a fiance back then. One that could throw wrenches accurately, might I add!” Winry poked him, but she wasn’t mad. “So I returned home to finally detach myself from work and think about my wedding. We were in the middle of a very pleasant dinner when the phone rang, and I was tasked with answering it. Just imagine my  _ great pleasure _ when I heard your voice at the other end!” he said ironically.

“You must have been delighted,” Roy smirked.

“Ohoho, and how,” Ed laughed bitterly. “I was practically  _ on cloud nine _ when you told me you needed me back at the office the following day for urgent matters.”

“It is my belief I have also apologised,” Roy politely answered.

“That doesn’t change anything, you annoying Captain Spark!”Ed yelled in his astonishingly loud angry voice.

“Well excuse me for paying you!” Roy answered back, starting to lose his patience. “It was a really important thing!”

“What was he calling you for?” Mei asked.

“Gaaaah…” the older Elric sighed. “Something regarding the Cretan Government wanting me present there when Flamehead here announced his visit there. They were probably scared of you,” he accused his superior.

“Why couldn’t you communicate that over the phone?” Ling asked, probably understanding why Ed would draw a mustache on his photo when he interrupted his wedding planning.

“It was too important and the line was insecure,” Mustang shrugged. Al suspected he also enjoyed teasing his Brother.

“Anyway, that resulted in this work of art!” Ed proudly presented. Roy wanted to argue further, and he was about to open up his mouth when Hawkeye stopped him:

“Let it go” she said calmly, placing an arm between them. “The thing is over and the moustache won’t be erased. Plus-” she added with a deadly calm smile, almost devilishly so, “-it’s pretty fun.”

Everyone giggled and Mustang resigned, but his fiery look told Al he wasn’t going to give up. 

This was about to be one long week…

Slowly, all of the adults returned to their comfortable places in the living room, Al calling quits on the rocking chair he had loved ever since he was an infant, but that he was unable to use because of the weight of the armor. He enjoyed the calming sways of the chair, as well as the comfortable material of the cushions. He also knew it was there that Ed often spent his afternoons with Yuriy and Sarah when they used to come to Resembool for the holidays, and it also used to be Granny’s favourite place. 

He took Trisha from her mom’s arms and gave Mei a chance to go take a shower. Meanwhile, the others comfortably installed themselves on the sofa and other chairs, with his brother having no courtesy whatsoever to scoot over the sofa and make place for other guests there. He plopped right in the middle of it and put his feet on the coffee table, earning a glare from Winry in the process. 

“Well then…” Al broke the silence just for the sake of it.

“I have a suggestion.” Mustang declared solemnly.

“Please not another round of the embarrassment tournament!” Ed groaned.

“No, that wasn’t what I was about to say, if you had a  _ little _ patience,” the raven-haired replied, forcing his eyes shut as creases formed on his forehead. Al doubted that after the story Hawkeye shared in the first round he’d be careless enough to suggest a round two. 

“Well excuse me,” his brother snorted, “for wanting to save your butt.”

“I needed no saving, thank you very much.”

“Oh really? Because last time I checked, you were useless on rainy days!” the Elric grinned, making Al roll his eyes. He couldn’t help but find the back and forth nostalgic, though.

“You know who I am and you still want to challenge me? Need I remind you the house is perfectly dry?” the Flame Alchemist smirked, playfully taking his hand out of his pocket and pointing it towards Edward as if he was about to light a fire. He stopped dead in his tracks when a wrench flew merely milimetres away from his ear, frozen.

“No fire under my roof! I do not want the house up in flames,” Winry fumed from the entrance of the kitchen, a tray full of teacups in her hand. Al wondered how she could wield a wrench in that state, but decided not to question it.

“I wasn’t going to-” Mustang started flabbergasted, but an excited Ed spoke over him.

“Winry, have I ever told you how much I love you?” he asked, delighted to finally have his wife on his side. 

She let the tray down and cuddled next to him, fitting her head in the nape of his neck before pushing one of the mugs in his hands. “You might have mentioned it a few times,” she said, steam covering her face.

“Well aren’t you sweet,” Ling observed, proud that he seized this occasion first. 

Al also buried his face in the scented mint steam to hide a smile, while listening to his brother stutter in response.

“Mi?” Trisha asked.

“Yes! Good job, Trisha!” Al was aware of how much she loved picking up mint in their herb garden. She giggled happily as the he lowered the cup for her to smell. The hot steam tickled her cheeks and she laughed again. He patted her head lovingly and let the mug rest on the table, wiggling in the chair.

“Oh my, look at the hour!” Lan suddenly said, raising up from her seat and heading to the stairs. “It’s already bedtime!”

Ling stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. “I can go.” She raised her eyebrows questioningly, but her husband pushed her back in the armchair. “Really. You bathe him, I put him to sleep. Besides, it’s been a long time since I had the opportunity to read Chen a good-night story!” he kissed her forehead gently and left the room. 

Mustang whistled behind them, “Well aren’t you sweet.” Hawkeye gave him a steady look,but said nothing, only rolling her eyes subtly.

“I’ll go see what they’re up to, as well. I doubt one person will be enough to make them stop whatever game they were playing,” Hawkeye announced, getting up. 

“She’s gonna give them the scary look,” Mustang muttered as she climbed the stairs.

“I heard that,” she called back.

The man gulped, and Al chuckled. He was pretty sure Ed wanted to say something, but he choked on his tea and ended up coughing while Winry patted his back.

“That’s what happens when you try to bite the hand that feeds you.”

“Technically, it’s the Country’s Treasury that feeds him,” Alphonse defended his brother, who gave him a thumbs-up while still coughing.

“Roy!” a voice called from upstairs, cutting whatever comeback he might have had.

“What?”

“You are being requested,” Hawkeye said as she returned to the living room, an excited Nel hopping down the stairs two at a time behind her.

“Daddy daddy daddy!” she called, hugging one of his feet and looking up to him with shining eyes. “Won’t you come tell us a story?” she begged him.

“U’cle Roy is telling stories?” Sarah also came down asking, before bursting into an “Yeeeey!”

“Heavily requested,” Riza completed with a smile as the two girls pulled each at one of his hands.

“I don’t know guys, wasn’t Ling going to read you a story?” 

“He said he was fine with you telling the story,” Riza encouraged him.

“I want to listen to those famous stories myself!” Ling yelled from upstairs.

“Come on Roy, a little story never killed anyone. It’s been awhile since I heard them too, you know!” Riza said, pulling onto the same arm as Nel until he finally gave in.

“Fine,” he sighed, and all the girls clapped their hand and let out a cry of joy.

“Well aren’t you sweet,” Al muttered, taking another sip of the tea.

“Good night!” Sarah pecked Winry’s cheek and then Ed’s, bouncing of their knees to rush as to not miss the beginning of the story. Yuriy also raced to kiss them good-night and hug both of them tight before he went back upstairs. Chen simply wished his mom sweet dreams and waved at her, and the living room remained silent once again.

“What nonsense is that Mustang sputtering?” Ed wondered as the kids’ laugh vibrated through the walls of the house. Winry patted his chest.

“What, you jealous?” she asked mischievously.

“No way!” he answered, but there was doubt in his voice. 

“I’m sure they still love you more,” Winry calmed him in a soothing voice.

“Of course they do!” Ed proudly answered. The next wave of fierce exclamations made Lan open her mouth for the first time since they started eating dessert.

“Are they even going to sleep tonight if they’re all in the same room?”

“I guess so… They’ll be too tired not to,” Winry sighed, shaking her head. “I tried talking them out of it, but there was no way to convince them.”

“Can you blame them?” Al asked, humming as he recalled their childhood. “We used to be the same! We’d stay up late talking and then sleep until noon. Granny always got mad at us!” he laughed, and Winry smiled sadly.

“Yeah… I miss Granny scolding us,” she admitted.

The room fell silent. Granny died soon after Yuriy was born. She never got to meet Sarah or Trisha. The three of them missed her greatly, and Winry probably grieved the most, but she knew her grandmother didn’t like crybabies so she tried to shed as few tears of possible, knowing Pinako had lived a good and long life and was happy when she passed away.

“Well I’m sure she’s laughing at our antics from heaven now!” the blonde broke the silence, forcing a smile. “And she’s probably scolding Sarah for not drinking her milk.”

“Our daughter will grow just fine even without that disgusting thing,” Ed told her confidently.

The mention of milk seemed to remind Trisha she hadn’t eaten much in the past three hours and she started crying for her mother. Luckily, Mei was just getting out of her shower and she rushed to the dim-lit room. “You hungry, little one?” The cries died down as Mei took her in her arms, despite Al insisting that her hair was still wet.

“I can help you with the hair,” Lan offered, getting up. Al argued that he himself could help, but Mei turned him down.

“You still have a lot to catch up on,” she told him, leaving him with his two childhood friends.

They spent a few moments in silence, and Al took advantage of that to feel their  _ qi _ s. He was finely tuned to both of them, but Ed and Winry’s were now more in sync with each other than he was with any of them. He knew it was only normal- they had spent so long apart, after all. Even so, it hurt a bit.

“So, Al!” Winry broke off the silence with her usual happy voice. “How is it going, being the Administrator and everything? Ed always complains there’s too much work.”

“Because there is!” his brother argued.

“Yeah, it is, but I guess I like it. The only problem is that it doesn’t leave me with much time for Alchemy.”

“Exactly!” his Brother nodded along. “Can you imagine, my last thesis was on politics. POLITICS!” Ed yelled as if it was outrageous that a political man would write thesis on politics. 

Al had to agree, though- being in charge of a quarter of Amestris made his so busy he barely had time for anything else besides work and his family. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Ed, whose family lived in a different city.

“And getting through to Armstrong-san can also be difficult at times,” Al admitted, sending shivers down the other man’s spine.

“Don’t even remind me! That woman is cra~zy!” he sing-songed.

“And you just love driving her nuts!” she called him out, making him frown and act hurt.

“How could you suggest such a thing? And when I only have the country’s best interest in mind!” he touched his chest, faking being shot through the heart.

“Brother was in the right, though!” Al argued. “Next time, try being more diplomatic?” he asked Edward, who shrugged it off.

“It shouldn’t be about diplomacy. If I kiss every pompous superior’s ass, we aren’t getting Amestris anywhere.”

Fundamentally, Ed was right. However, his principles didn’t work that well in practice, and they often required people like Alphonse or Hawkeye to mediate the meeting and ease the tension. Tension that would have been tangible even without Al’s flesh body.

“Well that lack of diplomacy of yours led a customer of mine to believe you were blackmailing me, Ed!” Winry frowned, but Al could tell she was amused by the situation. 

He played into her hands and asked, “What are you talking about, Winry?”

“That wasn’t my fault though. You just want to tell the story!” Ed complained.

“So I was in Rush Valley for a month. It was before me and Ed got married, so I still had my maiden name and was working for Mr. Garfiel,” Winry started- before she got brutally interrupted.

“You still keep your family name for business,” Ed interrupted, but she just shushed him.

“I was in the middle of performing an operation on one of my newest clients when Ed barged in, his State Alchemist watch shining in full light.

“‘Yo, Winry!’ he greeted me in high spirits.

“I was focusing, so I only mumbled in response, ‘You didn’t make an appointment.’

“‘Because I don’t need one. I’m here to inspect all of the Automail Mechanics. Mustang’s orders. You don’t look to happy to see me!’ he answered with a pout.”

“Oh, you were in charge of the Leroy mission, weren’t you, Brother?” Al connected the dots. The Leroy incident was fairly well known in the West: a band of thieves collaborated with a mechanic whose name is best left unsaid, hiding drugs in people’s automail who then delivered it around without knowing they were being used. Bartenders subtly subtracted the drugs or a gang attacked the disabled to claim what was theirs.

Ed managed to solve the case when one such guy felt his arm rusty and decided to consult Winry Rockbell, hearing she was talented. Winry then discovered the suspicious looking pack and Ed started his enquette, quickly tracking down the thieves with Winry’s help, who noticed what kind of nails the mechanic used. The automail was designed specifically for this, so the one in charge of the operation was none other than the mechanic himself.

“Let work aside!”Winry exclaimed,bringing the discussion back to her story. “Thing is, Ed made asked whether he could crash at my place.

‘Sure,’ I answered, pretty disinterested, as I was examining my work and he was disturbing me. Plus, I had gotten used to this kind of surprise visits he paid me.”

“You were still happy!” Ed argued, and Winry blushed but brushed him off:

“That’s beside the point. The next morning, I woke up to my doorbell ringing. It was surely persistent and I had a feeling it might even wake my neighbours up, so I answered without changing from my pyjamas or combing my hair.

‘What is it?’ I was taken by surprise- some of my loyal clients were at my door with guns in their hands and alarmed senses. The man from the previous day’s surgery explained what was going on.

“‘Mrs. Rockbell, there’s someone from the Military pestering you, is there not?’

“I blinked surprised and shook my head. If there was, Ed was surely keeping them in check and I doubt he would have let anyone get out alive.

“‘Oh poor you, they aren’t even letting you talk, are they?’ a lady took pity on me. The statement woke me up and I realised the people were actually worried.

“‘Really, nothing happened. I’m fine.’ I tried assuring them, but the customer started again.

“‘Impossible! I saw it with my own eyes! A man was asking if he can sleep at your place and…’

“I realised who he was referring to, but Edward decided to appear right then, as sleepy as I was a few moments ago and scratching his stomach. 

“‘That’s him!’ the customer yelled and all guns turned to him. Ed took a step back, quickly taking a fighting stance.

“‘What’s this about, Winry?’ he yelled.

“When the others realised who he was, they let their guns down, confused, and looked at the man who accused him.

“‘No way, this is Ed!’ they said.

“‘But it’s him! He had a State watch and burst into Mrs. Rockbell’s cabinet and asked to spend the night and Mrs. Rockbell seemed bothered!’ the man stuttered

“Ed simply gawked at him. ‘You don’t know me?’

“He shook his head confused.

“‘Looks like you’re blackmailing me, Ed,’ I joked.

“‘What’s going on here?’ the customer cried.

“Half an hour and many explanations later, the man bowed before Ed, ‘Sorry, I didn’t know you were…’ he looked at me and Ed snapped.

“‘Engaged? Well yeah.’”

“He had a thing for you, I know it!” Ed sulked, making Al laugh.

“Does it matter? Pretty girls also flirt with you.”

“That’s not true!” Ed protested, but calmed down when Winry hugged him. They were really endearing to watch.

Al couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by their wavelengths being more in sync anymore.

“But really Brother, blackmail?” Al laughed, still surprised anyone could see the foolish Elric capable of something like that. Except for when he was with Mustang- all worries were justified them.

“Ask the guy, not me!” he said, shrugging. “I believe I’m a fairly nice guy.”

Al couldn’t agree more, but he didn’t want to feed his brother’s ego any further. Instead, he said, “Well I kinda understand. Mei has this patient that really likes her and always brings her gifts she has to refuse. I mean, she is home alone most of the day, but I work in the same city! And we have a daughter!”

He heard his friends laugh, but his annoyance wasn’t so easily washed away. “Can he really not stop? Mei also told him she’s not interested. And she wears a wedding ring!”

“Maybe he’s just thankful?” Winry tried, making both Elrics roll their eyes at her. “Just saying!” 

There was a long, comfortable silence. Al kept rocking in his chair and taking in every detail of the house- the still pictures smiling at them, the empty sofas, the lingering smell of apple pie, the bookshelves full to the brim with Ed’s own notes. 

The clock quietly pointed to half past eleven. The kids must have fallen asleep by now. Al has been talking with his friends for almost an hours, even if it felt like only ten minutes had passed. 

Winry yawned and peaked towards the bathroom, “I think I’ll take a shower. You guys can stay ‘till later.” She got up and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

“I’ll come soon,” Ed told her, rubbing her back. She nodded and headed towards the bathroom.

Ed stretched. It was just the two of them now. Al heard the water running in the bathroom and his heart starting pounding. There was a question that had been weighing on him for a while.

“It’s been a long day,” Ed said.

Al nodded and swallowed. He needed to ask. “Brother…” he started quietly. Ed turned to face him and encouraged him to continue. “I’ve been wondering… Do you miss alchemy?”

Ed stared at him and then looked out the window. “I’ll be lying if I said I didn’t,” he admitted. Of course, Al new that. And he knew his brother wouldn’t lie to him either. He felt his heart sink a little- ten years might have passed, but guilt still resided within him.

“But I wouldn’t turn back time for anything in the world,” he continued. “I made the right choice back then. I have you, and Winry and Sarah and Yuriy- and if you tell a soul I’ll make you regret it, but I enjoy having that Cheapskate and Squinty Eyes here, too.” He turned to Al with a coy smile that made all the worry ease off his shoulders.

“And plus, Al, I couldn’t imagine a life without you.” He patted his brother’s shoulder. “So stop worrying about it alone like an idiot.”

Al felt his eyes water and he pulled Ed in for a hug, feeling the need to immerse himself in his smell and feel his flesh arm with his own fingers.

“Oh come on, you sentimental guy!” Ed commented, but Al felt his own shirt dampening.

“It’s because it’s almost midnight!” Al joked.

“Then, do you want a midnight snack?” Ed winked at him, breaking the embrace and checking around to make sure they were alone. Then, he whispered, as if disclosing a great secret, “There’s still a piece of pie left!”

Al smiled warmly and sniffed. “We’re partners in crime.” 

Ed high-fived him.

***

_ Alphonse leaned against the wall, still too weak to walk alone. He entered Mustang and Hawkeye’s hospital room, raising a smile at them. The movement of muscles was strange, but he was starting to get used to it. _

_ “Alphonse!” Hawkeye exclaimed, more to let Mustang know than out of surprise. Looking at the Flame Alchemist, Al had to remind himself he was blind, and so he talked to give him an idea where he was. _

_ “Hello,” he said, unsure why he was called.  _

_ Roy seemed to localise him and pointed to the front of his bed, where a chair was waiting. “Have a seat,” he told him, looking straight at the chair. He looked like he was coping with the blindness better than expected.  _

_ Al had heard from Hawkeye that there was the possibility of restoring his sight, as long as he worked out a way for Ishval to be integrated in Amestris. _

_ ‘He wouldn’t have accepted it any other way, anyway.’ Hawkeye told Al back then. _

_ “Alphonse,” Mustang started in an official tone as soon as he heard Breda close the door and stand guard outside. “There is something very important I have to discuss about with you.” _

_ Al nodded, but then reminded himself that Mustang was blind and said, “Yes”. _

_ Ed had already discussed with Mustang, but didn’t disclose what about. He just mumbled something about Hughes and buried himself in bed. Alphonse was a bit concerned, but he knew Roy had no intention to harm him. _

_ “It’s about the future of Amestris. I want you to be part of it. To work with me towards a better future.” Al was aware of Roy’s plans to become Fuhrer and supported him wholly. _

_ “How can I help?” he asked friendly. _

_ “I know this will sound strange, so please hear me out. Join the military, as a State Alchemist. Take your brother’s place, Alphonse. For as long as I’ll live, I can promise you the military won’t go back to being a corrupt place and you won’t be the Dog of the Military like Edward had to be. You can refuse orders than you find atrocious.” _

_ He stopped for a moment, but Al shut up, so Mustang continued. “Of course, I know that it might hurt- Ed’s alchemy loss,” he said, considerate enough not to mention more. “You may take your time to think about it,” he finished. _

_ Al spoke evenly, his words measured but confident, “Mr. Mustang, you know I’d do anything I can to help you, and it is my intention to do so. You will continue to have my support from now on. But I can’t be a State Alchemist.” _

_ There was no doubt in his mind that his following words were true, and he didn’t need to explain that. _

_ “There can only be one Elric State Alchemist, and that is the Fullmetal Alchemist.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys!  
> The next chapter is the last one! I hope you enjoyed this work! It isn't my best Fma one and I;m not very proud of it, but I only had a short amount of time to write. Sorry for that and I hope you stick with me!


	15. The End of the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rounding up the last chapter and tying the stries together aka the epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are no ends- only new beginnings.

Al returned to his room past midnight, when Mei was already sleeping. Her shoulders slowly rose and slumped in rhythm with her even breaths. Al stopped in the door frame to watch her, closing the door quietly behind him. He tried to make as little noise as possible as he tucked himself under the covers, but she shifted when he laid his head on the pillow.

“Al?” she muttered sleepily. He hummed in response, trying to talk as little as possible as to not wake her up completely. She shifted again to find a comfortable position closer to him, and he wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her closer.

“How was your talk with Ed?” she asked, voice muffled against Al’s chest.

“... Reassuring,” he answered after a moment, closing his eyes.

“I’m glad,” she muttered, cupping his face with one of her hands and caressing his cheek.

Al felt himself drifting soon after, a lingering taste of apple pie in his mouth and still feeling the faint smell of his favourite dessert. 

He was home.

***

Lan listened at the kids’ door- it was quiet. She cracked the door to check, and found an endearing view: the four kids were all on the floor, ignoring the beds prepared for them. Interlacing hands and legs made it difficult to tell who was who, and Lan smiled upon seeing Chen so carefree.

She entered the room Winry had prepared for her and Ling, but her husband was nowhere to be found. She checked the bathroom in search for him, but she should have expected it to be empty. 

She climbed down the stairs unobserved, entering the kitchen just as quietly. Ling was sitting in a chair, eating a peach. He waved at her unfazed, almost as if he was expecting her arrival. Lan sat across from him, catching the apple he threw at her.

“How was Mustang’s story?” she whispered.

She munched at the apple as she listened to Ling’s retelling.

***

Yuriy blinked a few times and listened carefully. All of his friends were asleep. He got up slowly, trying not to wake anyone up, which was a hard task considering that Nel had her head pressed against his arm. Not that it bothered him that much.

He tried to be as quiet as possible while rummaging through his books to get what he needed- the paper he had hid before, a pen, a plank of wood and his dad’s papers. He sat on the window sill, trying to figure out how to change the circle in order to turn the wooden boy (safely deposited among his clothes) into a girl.

After a few trials and errors, he was delighted to see the plank of wood turn into what he envisioned, and was so proud of himself he needed to remind himself his friends were sleeping to not dance around the room.

“What are you doing?” Nel asked groggily from behind him. Luckily he had just managed to hide his creation.

“N-nothing!” he sputtered, turning around to see he had somehow managed to wake up the girl, who was rubbing her eyes sleepily. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the improvised bed.

“Then let’s sleep,” she muttered, nestling closer to him that last time and making it even harder for Yuriy to fall asleep.

He stared at her messy braids for a while and eventually fell asleep to the pitter-patter of the rain.

***

Trisha woke up when the floor creaked under her dad’s weight, but she didn’t open her eyes. She inhaled deeply and recognised him by scent.

He laid down in bed next to her mom, and she enjoyed listening to their voices in the quiet room. It reminded her of home. She cuddled under the blankets in the form of a ball as she listened to familiar voices whispering. 

Her dad left the door slightly opened and the smell of mint from his tea tickled Trisha’s nostrils as she felt sleep linger on her eyelashes.

***

Sarah was sleeping despite herself, quietly snoring and a trace of drool formed around her open mouth, pretty teeth glowing in the rays of the moon that found their way through the window.

She was tired enough from playing around all day and the hot bath just made her more sleepy. She passed out as uncle Roy told his story, despite her best attempts to stay up. She even pinched herself a few times to stay awake, but it was futile- she fell asleep as soon as she leaned her head against the wall.

Despite being asleep. Sarah felt being lifted off the bed and then tucked under the covers, most likely by her dad. She also later felt herself carried by someone not much bigger than her to a harder surface, but she dismissed it as a dream and didn’t budge, soon falling into a deeper sleep.

Sarah was bound to be surprised the following morning, when she’d found herself on the floor, her feet tangled in Penelope’s and her hands roaming free in the sheets, most likely finding Chen’s hair as their target.

***

Ling could swear the peach he was savouring had just gotten sweeter when Lan entered the kitchen, sitting across from him and listening to his rambles. The apples were also less sour when she was the one sitting there with him.

At one point he tried her attention pretty sure she had dozed off, “Lan, I was thinking of holding an Amestrian-style birthday party for Chen.”

“Don’t mess around with huge banquets again!” she answered in a hoarse voice, barely moving as she did. Ling chuckled softly, aware that Lan hated banquets enough to give him more of a reaction if she had more energy.

“Come on, let’s get you to sleep.” He traversed the table to be at her side when she staggered, getting up from her seat. 

It had been a long day and a long ride, and fatigue must have been piling up over the course of the last week. Ling had spent that time doing paperwork to be able to have a week-long holiday, and even pulled some all nighters. Lan had refused to go to sleep, instead staying up and helping him.

She fell asleep halfway to their room, and Ling picked her up and opened the door to their oasis of silence. He felt just like on their wedding night, when he had to carry her to their room because of the blisters from shoes she was made to wear by the courtesans gave her.

***

Penelope always fell asleep soon after she cried. Today was no exception. As soon as her head touched the pillow, she was out like a light.

However, she had always been a light sleeper, just like her parents. The smallest noise or shift made her eyes open wide in the darkness. It was the same when Yuriy stepped on a creaking plank next to her ear.

For a moment, she didn’t know where she was- the place was unfamiliar. When she realised, however, that she was at the Elrics and that the place next to her was empty, she got up alarmed. Behind her, she noticed a figure bent over in front of the open wardrobe.

“Yu-chan, what are you doing?” she whispered, getting closer to see what he was searching for.

“N-nothing.” he sputtered. 

Normally, she would have pushed for more details, but she was tired and wanted to get back to sleep as soon as possible, “Then let’s sleep!” She pulled his hand back to the improvised bed, nestling up next to him. 

She liked how warm his body was.

***

Roy closed the door to his and Riza’s room and layed down on the bed.

“I’m beat!” he sighed as loudly and as dramatic as he could.

Riza layed next to him, pulling the covers over her feet and them turning to him with an appreciative gaze. “But you were a great storyteller!” she praised him, and though he knew she was doing it on purpose, he couldn’t help but feel proud.

“You’re just saying!” he tried arguing back.

“I’m not! You really were good! And you’ve seen the reactions of the kids!” She inched closer to pat his shoulder. He took advantage of that to catch her hand and kiss it softly. She ran her hand through his hair.

“It was a long day,” she admitted, letting her head fall on his shoulder. 

In moments of calm like these, Roy couldn’t help but believe in fate.

***

Lan was drying Mei’s hair with a towel as she breastfed Trisha. Though she said nothing about it, Mei knew she was wondering about the length of her hair, which now barely reached her chest.

“I cut it when Trisha was born,” she explained. “It was a pain to dry after the bath and took too long to comb.”

She still kept it up in two buns because she knew it was unnoticeable that way. Having to answer questions about it every day would have been an even bigger pain than shampooing her long hair.

Besides, it felt right. She became a mother, so it as a new beginning which needed celebration, even in the form of a haircut. It did feel a bit strange at first- her head felt lighter and she almost didn’t recognise herself when she looked in the mirror, but she didn’t dislike it.

It somehow made breaking ties with Xing feel real, like the materialisation of a truth she had to accept. Her mother used to wear her hair in intricate braids and she had taught her daughter to do the same.

Al argued it wasn’t necessary to cut it, that he’d dry her hair. She simply shook her head, knowing this was more than just cutting her hair- it was a step she had to do.

But that was a small sacrifice to make if that meant being with Alphonse.

***

Chen had never slept in the same bed as someone before, maybe except for his parents, which happened every once in a blue moon, when he had nightmares or when he was sick.

Therefore, he never knew girls could kick so much during their sleep. Sarah taught him that though, as she seemed to mistake his leg for a training puppet. He could have exchanged places with her, but he didn’t think letting a girl sleep on the sideline was a thing a prince would do. Besides, she was going to hurt her foot by kicking the bed, and that seemed rather painful.

Chen tried calming her down, and he found the best way to do so was to let her pat his head. He had no idea what she was dreaming of, but a ruffle on his long dark hair seemed a fair price for a good night’s sleep.

Besides, he couldn’t get mad at Sarah- her hair had one of the most beautiful shades of yellow Chen had ever seen.

***

Riza had long since came to terms with the fact that Roy was a hugger, especially in his sleep. She wasn’t really a touchy-feely person, but she didn’t really mind it either. She had gotten used to Roy wrapping his hands around her, whether it was a conscious or not. Now she associated those hugs with security and the feeling of home.

She fell asleep easily, tired from the long journey and the fun she hadn’t had in awhile. Riza had left the windows opened, and the sound of the rain echoed in the room, bringing her peace of mind. After all, on rainy days when Roy was useless, the line separating them was also blurred.

‘Though that line had long since been deleted by him,’ was her last thought before falling asleep in the warm embrace.

***

Winry had a faint feeling Ed and Al were going to finish her pie in secret, but she couldn’t be angry about that. As much as she liked arguing with Ed, there were moments when he simply found him sweet. Not that something so trivial would stop her from commenting the following morning.

Winry was good with technical terms. If she would have been asked to describe an automail arm, she could do so in great detail. However, the science of the heart was lost to her. She sucked at describing feelings and she always made fun of Ed’s proposal, but she was pretty sure hers would have been as nerdy as his, if the tables somehow turned around.

But when her heart throbbed at Ed’s fond look, she decided to follow that feeling.

***

Edward entered the room while Winry was changing. He plopped on the bed next to her and let his hair loose from his ponytail. He placed his arms under his head and hummed a song he remembered the birds that morning chirping.

“Well, you seem in a far better mood than I expected,” Winry noticed.

“Yeah well, it could have been worse,” he admitted, making his wife chuckle. She closed the lamp and sat down besides him, relaxing. He felt her shift to face him.

“Good night, Ed.” she wished him, muttering against her pillow. 

He brushed a few stray strands away from her face. “Good night, Win.”

‘I’m really glad to be alive,’ Ed thought to himself.

***

“Why are we doing this  _ again _ ?” Edward asked grumpily, slamming the dishes on the table before whipping his head around to Yuriy and Sarah to admonish them, “Stop running around you guys!”

“But aunt Riza is coming!” Sarah answered happily, jumping up and down from excitement. They were supposed to decorate the tree, but hadn’t made much progress over the course of the past hour. Ed had a feeling it was going to be him and Winry that would end up decorating the house, again.

“As I said,  _ why _ ?” Ed questioned again.

“Because we live in the West and Chen hasn’t seen snow before. Besides, it’s Christmas!”  Winry answered cheerfully, ignoring Ed’s sulking face and returning to the kitchen to fix their guests some hot chocolate.

“This isn’t what they call a Christmas miracle.” Ed mumbled.

He could practically hear Winry rolling her eyes as she answered, “Why are you so against it, anyway?”

“Because this happens  _ under my roof _ . Why do we have to cook and spend half our fortune feeding Squinty Eyes and his progeniture anyway? And I doubt Captain Spark is going to warm up the place, either.”

“Oh come on, Ed! You’ll get to see Al!” Winry protested.

“Why can’t I see him on someone else’s money?” he snapped back, but realised must have said something wrong as soon as Winry chuckled.

“And I thought Mustang was supposed to be the cheapskate?”

From the hallway, a picture of their last reunion smiled at them, the happy faces of the thirteen people smiling from one ear to the other- there was Ed and Winry, right in the middle. To his left stood Alphonse, holding Trisha up and Mei doing her victory-pose next to him. To Winry’s right, Riza was smiling softly, Roy with a hand on her shoulder. Besides Mei and Al stood Ling and Lan, looking relaxed to be out of their Imperial clothes for the first time in months. And in front of them, the four children were beaming, Sarah trying to climb on Yuriy’s back to look taller than him, Chen trying to keep her from falling and Nel looking girly as she kept her hands behind her and smiled.

The bell rang, and the kids ran towards the door.

“I think our  _ guests _ have arrived,” Edward hissed. “This is bound to be a disaster!” he whispered, mentally preparing himself as he opened the door to new unknown adventures.

~The End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys!  
> Here ends my journey wit UTSR. It's not my best work, but it helped me learn a lot. It is my first multi-chapter fanifc, so I got to experiment around a lot. My next FMA work is gonna be more adventure less fluff and focus on the Mustang unit- whenever I get around to that. For now, I'll give it my all to write Assassiantion Classroom fics, so look forward to that if you are interested!  
> Anyway, thank you for sticking with me and I hope I'll see you again!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> Hope you guys have enjoyed! I'll update this every three days, so I hope you stay tuned if you liked it! Ed is my favourite FMA character, so let me know if you like him too! who's your favourite?  
> As always, comments and kudos are much loved!


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